#easy desserts to impress

[heavenbarnes]

Thinking of being Ghost's fiance and making invite the 141 over for dinner to finally meet them and he begrudgingly accepts because anything to make u happy and they're still trying to wrap their heads around the fact that he's engaged

mmm omg your mind 🫶🏼

finally getting older bf!simon to have the 141 around your dinner was the equivalent of pulling teeth.

come to think, pulling teeth would’ve been easier.

“well fuck me for wanting to meet the people the man i’m marrying spends 90% of his time with”

“sweet’art y’know i don’t like bringing work ‘ome”

then you’d gone and put your hands on your hips with just one (1) eyebrow raised-

and the lads were knocking at his fucking door.

“gidday- don’t fuckin’ start w’me”

“some bloody way to greet y’guests, big man”

as he corralled all their snide little remarks about “didnae know ye’ owned a nice shirt” everyone managed to find their best behaviour upon your appearance.

it might’ve had something to do with the stunned silence.

when he’d begrudgingly invited them, they’d all been in a little bit of shock- first of all, ghost had a fiancé? second of all, ghost is letting us into his home?

then it all round off with, third of all-

ghost’s fiancé was a fucking looker, that’s for sure.

sweet, nice, bloody easy on the eyes- how the hell had he managed that?

you were just happy to meet the closest things to friends that simon had.

price took lead by drawing you into a hug, thanking you for your hospitality. followed closely by a sweet talking gaz who was already making your cheeks warm with his manners.

naturally, johnny had to chime in with some stupid little-

“nae wonder L.t disnae want us knowing about ye’, i’d keep ye’ all t’maself too”

he’s too slow to avoid simon’s flat palm coming up the side of his head, but it doesn’t dissuade him much.

he’s peachy fucking keen to meet you.

simon eats his tea with a tense jaw, rolling his eyes every time someone makes you laugh a little too long, tells another ‘embarrassing’ story about him.

he also keeps his palm firmly on your knee, nervous twitch of a thumb running circles over your skin.

when you pop out to the kitchen to fix dessert, they’re on him like starved dogs.

“all this time and not so much as a bloody photo?”

“kinda’ photos i’m gettin’ aren’t f’you lots eyes”

johnny nearly falls out of his seat.

you can hear them whispering all the way from the kitchen, for a bunch of SAS guys- they’re not very subtle.

simon’s got one ear on the shit chatter coming from his team and the other on the kitchen, waiting for the slightest sign that he might be able to join you.

it comes- in the form of a gasp from you followed by “ow fuck”

simon’s out of his seat like a bullet.

“what’s wrong- what ‘ave y’done?”

you know the 141 are watching, doesn’t take a genius to see the way they’re all craning their necks around the kitchen doorframe.

“i’m fine, si- just a little burn from the pan”

“lemme’ see, gimme’ y’hand”

so the 141 see their ghost, unshakeable mountain of a man- a face they never see-

and they see his face, and they see genuine fear on it.

they see simon.

your simon.

“i’m telling you it’s fine, si”

“i’ll make that call, alright”

and they’re all looking at each other across the table, trying to decide whether to be impressed or even a little jealous- they’re leaning towards jealous.

so instead they settle on taking the absolute piss out of him.

not that he minds-

before you could even reach your chair he was pulling you into his lap- having you eat dessert perched on his thigh.

as you settle back into his chest, you could swear you feel him laugh.

that hand settles back on your knee again but there aren’t nervous circles anymore.

more like gentle squeezes.

your simon.

right at home.

[pomefioredove]

Can we have kalim's ending for the yuu auction as well? I was pretty excited for his outcome

of course of course!

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | bad ending

summary: a kalim ending type of post: short fic characters: kalim additional info: yuu is gender neutral, this is maybe a little short, hi kalim :)

"Problems don't just go away when you throw money at them, you know," Vil says. The tone of his voice is sour, and he's making no effort to hide it. "You'll have to actually take some responsibility."

Leona rolls his eyes. "Oh, shut it. They're not a pet, they can handle themselves. You're just butthurt it wasn't you,"

"And yet, here you are, still moping just the same," he snaps back. "Kalim, congratulations. I'm sure the prefect will- where'd he go?"

Despite their best efforts, Kalim hadn't heard a single word of the other housewarden's well wishes (and warnings).

He was gone before they'd even started, in fact.

Even with all he'd had prepared beforehand- the new room, the uniforms, all of your favorite foods- there was suddenly a list a mile long on his mind.

First, he had to get you.

Then, he had to show you around your new place.

Then, dinner.

Followed by dessert, of course.

(Maybe a light appetizer to start? Why hadn't he thought of that already?!)

And then he'd treat you to an evening of your favorite songs, laughter, and fun.

So on, and so forth.

Kalim may be a little oblivious at times, but your poor condition at Ramshackle is no secret to anyone. He'd been talked out of helping more than once before- and, so, this was his chance.

The gravity of technically owning a person who doesn't legally exist in this world hasn't crossed his mind even once. The way he sees it, he gets to host you indefinitely, take you on vacations with his family, treat you to the life you deserve after all you've done for everyone, and no one can tell him no.

Though, something still sits in the back of his mind, something that asks him to walk before running. A voice of reason.

If Kalim had a shoulder angel and devil, both of them would somehow be Jamil:

"I would advise taking it easy on them as they adjust. This whole spectacle must have been difficult for them. You're a good listener when you try. Now's a chance to show that,"

More than anything, Kalim wants to impress you.

Such a thought would make anyone else scoff- the gold and jewels and magic carpets aren't enough?

And his answer would be... well... no.

Kalim possesses many things. He has entire houses full of treasure, trinkets, fine silks, servants at his every whim... and yet, he's still missing something crucial. Something he's become more and more aware of since coming to NRC.

A bond.

Of course, he loves his siblings. And his parents. And the students in Scarabia. And the students in the other dorms. He might consider all of the above friends, but not at the emotional level he seeks. Jamil is a work in progress. But you- you're already well-acquainted, and friendly. You're a gracious guest, a great listener, and... well, you had the kind of bond he looks for with so many other people on campus.

Why else would everyone be lining up to pay to be your friend otherwise?

(That's how he saw it, anyway).

So, he listens. Makes an effort to, anyway. He even stops feeding Grim at dinner when you ask him to.

"Oops!" he says, offering the direbeast a gold-lined handkerchief to wipe around his mouth. "But it's good, right? Jamil's family recipe is always delicious!"

You quirk a smile at him. "I liked it. Grim?"

Grim mumbles something indistinct and crawls to sit on the other side of you.

"I'm glad! I remember you telling me that you miss it from your home- I can't believe some of our recipes are so similar!" he beams. "Maybe Scarabia will start feeling like a home to you, too, then!"

You laugh, a little awkwardly. "Aha... maybe. This is all just so sudden,"

"But... good, right?"

"Yes, good," you smile, tilting your head to the side. "It's a step up from being Crowley's errand-runner and sleeping in the cold, at least."

"Well, you'll certainly never be cold here!"

He laughs again, and a murmur of agreement ripples through the students in attendance, all the way down to the end of the long table.

"Ah... Kalim, this is nice. Really nice... I don't know how I'm going to repay you for any of this,"

"Pay? Like with money?" he raises an eyebrow. "You're my guest, and an honorary member of Scarabia now, so you don't have to do anything but relax."

That's not exactly what you meant, though you don't have the heart to explain what exactly Crowley's care had been like.

"...Right. But really, if you need anything done- I'll be glad to do it,"

He's quiet for a moment, thinking. "Well... if you're really bored, I'm sure you could find something to do. We have lots of board games,"

"No, I meant like, work,"

Kalim blinks. "Why would you have to work?"

You should've just let it go. Now this is getting embarrassing, admitting all that Crowley had you do when you had no say in the matter.

"You know... to earn my keep,"

"Earn your..." he squints. "You don't have to earn anything. Having you here is reward enough for me!"

Sometimes his oblivious nature can be a little comforting.

And even though it's dark, his positivity is as radiant as the sun... you can't help but return his smile.

"Alright, then,"

"Alright! Now..." he says, looking around the table. "Who's ready for dessert?"

[navybrat817]

😘

Kris, look at him. I need him! 🫠

Welcome to the Meal

Pairing: William Miller x Female Reader

Summary: Will's hungry, but not for food.

Word Count: Over 600

Warnings: Established relationship, implied explicit sexual content, reference to oral sex (f. receiving), being in love and slight feels (it's me, okay?), William Miller (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Short and sweet for Sinday and inspired by a prompt @whisperlullaby provided. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Will stared unashamedly at you from across the table as you tried to look over the menu. Again. Each time you glanced at him over the flickering candlelight, you found his blue eyes staring right back at you. The retired captain had an impressive talent of not giving away a single emotion unless he wanted to. But tonight, he didn't bother to try and hide his lust.

Just because he promised to take you out for dinner, he didn't say anything about playing nice or fair.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you begged. It wasn't that you didn't like having his undivided attention because you loved it, but how did he expect you to get through the meal when he looked about two seconds away from tossing the table aside to get to you? “Please.”

Amusement flickered in Will’s eyes, his voice low and teasing when he asked, “Like what?”

You huffed because he knew exactly how he was looking at you. He wanted to devour you and he wanted to hear you say it. “Like I’m dinner.”

“Maybe I’m hungry,” Will said.

“Well, I'm not dinner,” you said, closing the menu.

“Yes, you are. And dessert,” he smirked, licking his lips as he leaned back in his chair. “Breakfast, too, and you know how hungry I get first thing in the morning.”

You suppressed a shiver as you recalled how his eyes dragged along your body earlier that day. He had you sprawled out naked in his bed, his large hands gripping your thighs and pushing them apart so he could stare at your exposed, glistening pussy. He licked his lips like he was eager to taste you and you clenched around nothing before he dipped his head. The moan you let out when his tongue moved between your wet lips sounded a lot like his name.

The man took pride in everything he did and that included eating pussy.

“How are you always hungry?” You asked. You understood his need whenever the two of you reunited after being apart, but he was insatiable any day of the week that ended in “y”.

“Because you're delicious, sweetheart,” he answered, your heart skipping a beat as scratched along his short beard. Facial hair was never a “make or break” deal with you until him. You longed to feel him bury his head between your legs again and soothe your ache. “I can't get enough.”

You took a moment to admire the love of your life when you realized he wasn't just talking about your body. Some days he held you a little too close because he knew what it was like to lose, but you loved him all the more for it. He let you in because he trusted you when it didn't come easy. Having his heart was an honor.

Who wouldn't want William Miller to love them?

“I can't get enough of you either,” you said, reaching across the table to take his hand. He gripped it like a lifeline and it wasn't just lust you saw when you gazed into his eyes this time.

You saw paradise. Home. Love.

Everything he wanted and didn't think he deserved until you.

“Are we ready to order?” The server asked, temporarily breaking the spell.

You nodded after a moment, your heart full as you squeezed Will’s hand. “I think so, but we’re going to take our meal to-go. If that's okay.”

“Of course,” the server said.

The small smile on Will’s face told you that was his plan all along and you didn't mind.

Besides, who were you to keep your starving man from eating?

I love him, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[russellsppttemplates]

Hii☺️ I had an idea, where its charles and teaders first pregnancy and she is really struggling with morning sickness and feels bad about it cause its the LEC ice cream debut and charles is totally okay if she misses it but she pulls thru without being too sick for him. Idk just cute anxious daddy to be charles🥺

Cw: reader is pregnant (mentions morning sickness, nausea)

"I don't mind it if you don't come with me tomorrow, amour, I'm okay with that", Charles reasoned as he got into bed where you already were layed down, your ice-cold lemon water working wonders for the nausea you were feeling.

"We will see how I wake up tomorrow", you reasoned, "no need to worry until we have to, who knows? Maybe this little monkey will let me go to the launch of the best ice-cream in town", you smiled in an attempt to soothe his worries.

When the morning came, however, you were feeling it a bit. It wasn't the need to throw up necessarily - thank Goodness -, but rather just the heavy feeling on your stomach, "I'm fine to to, Charles - I even got that cute dress to wear and I'm okay", you kissed his lips in reassurance before you started getting ready.

"The minute you don't feel well, you call someone to call me if I'm not near you, and you sit down, okay?", your husband stated before you got inside the venue for the ice-cream launch.

For the most part you had been fine, speaking to a few friends and other people you recognised, your pregnancy being the second most talked about topic while everyone seemed to love the cold dessert, "you're not having some? I can get it for you", she offered.

"No, I don't want to mess up this nausea I already have, thank you though", you smiled as you saw Charles walk to you, excusing himself when someone pulled him in for a chat.

"Amour, is everything alright? Are you sure you don't need some fresh air? Maybe I can find some more lemon-y water for you - sitting down might help!", he offered.

"What I want if for you to calm down and not worry about us - we're fine, keeping away from the ice-cream, but fine", you smiled, letting him cuddle you on your side as the woman you were talking to excused herself.

"I'm never not going to worry about you, that's not a thing that can happen", he admitted as he rubbed your bump, "and I just want to make sure you're okay, that's all", he kissed your temple, "I know it wasn't easy for you to be here, but thank you for coming anyway".

"I'm impressed you didn't call me stubborn", you raised your eyebrows.

"See, I could have called you stubborn because you were - a little bit at least - but you're also my amazing wife and the mother of my child you're so beautifully carrying, so I know the limits of my words", he chuckled.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[kaivenom]

Being a baker and joining the straw hats… HCS

Masterlist

A/N: reedited work, because i realize i accidently left out Chopper. Thanks to @valen-yamyam16 for pointing out.

You were an ex-pírate of big mom’s crew, when you realized you wanted to bake more that kill, you left them and went to improcedente your cooking.

That’s when you met Luffy, he liked your desserts, made some trouble on the town and obliged you to join his crew.

You didn’t have a choice so you boarded with them.

Everyone seemed to be okay with it , apparently it was very normal that Luffy does that. Even though you notice that people were a little reluctant about it, mostly because of your past crew.

Luffy didn’t care, he only cared about you cooking to him and having always some dessert on the table. He was very noisy but you liked how he always wanted to try your food,

Otherwise, the cook of the ship didn’t quite like you, running around with your sugar and chocolate, etc. His cooking ideology was different from yours but the goal was the same, making people happy.

That’s how you tríed to work together and after a couple of weeks and some battles thanks to your captain, the kitchen became your domain. Spending time with him planning the meals and helping each other, made you two reallly happy.

The swordsman tried to sound stoic and lonely, saying he doesn’t like sweets but after hearing his captain talking about your desserts it was a matter of time he started sneaking to the kitchen to steal some.

It was very funny to see a big muscled man trying to sneak into the kitchen quietly. Making him confess was difficult even when was obvious that was him, but after he did that and apologized it was easier to serve him.

The shooter tried to impress you saying that hd has some baker skills himself, when you suggested doing a cooking battle he confessed it was a lie to try to be liked be liked by you. You didn’t mind it, you wanted to fit in too.

From there you spent many time together in the kitchen. Sanji tried to kick Ussop out the kitchen most of the times but you apprecieted really his company, jokes and inventions, he even made you new baking utensils.

The rest of the Straw Hats were easy to convince that you were good.

Franky loved your cooking, especially your creations with soda drinks and Brook made many jokes about them.

Nami at first thought they were from Sanji so she eated a lot, then realized they were yours and thought they were poisoned... just for a couple of minutes, then she apologized.

With Jimbei it was difficult to know his favourite dessert but he happily teach you about fhishman's gastronomy.

Robin was just perfect to be with, complimenting your skills and always gettign a new round of biscuits, at some point you replaced Sanji on bringing her tea.

Chopper being the sugar candy lover, he is the first one to get at your feet and beg you for food. Sweets, desserts, cakes, everything that has sugar he is up to it. He is now officially your adopted son of the ship, always ready to try your new recipes.

[gilverrwrites]

Their Perfect Date HCs [Angel edition]

Rating: General

Human Edition | Monster Edition

Please remember: There is strength in softness.

Cas

Absolutely brings you flowers. 

Hear me out: fruit picking!

Something like strawberries

Spend the day outdoors in the sunny weather, chatting, walking, picking and comparing fruits. 

Maybe a picnic at the end where you can refuel, and Cas can bask in the sun. Enjoy people/nature watching together. 

Then you take him home and make your harvest into something; a pie, wine, jelly/jam.

Put him in a frilly apron and boop flour on his nose, he’s in love. 

Cas won’t partake in the consumption, but he’ll enjoy watching you, and earnestly listen to your review.

Gabriel 

Brings you chocolates/candy.

(Obviously, he has ideas, plans, and wants of his own, to a dangerous extent but) Gabe at his core just wants to impress you, don’t give him choices because he’s very much a ‘whatever you want’ kinda guy in those scenarios. His ideal date is whatever your ideal date is. 

What do you want for dinner? ‘Whatever you fancy sugar’, your wish: my command.’  Do you prefer the red outfit, or the black? ‘I think you look smokin’ in both, pick whatever you feel good in.’ Do you want pasta or pizza? ‘I want a pizza you. Do you want pasta or pizza?’

Plus, he loves simultaneously using indecisiveness to wind you up and to force you to make decisions for yourself, to voice your own wants and needs.  

Ultimately though, I think his ideal date would be something surprisingly simple. 

Like a coffee date.

Or hot/boozy hot/chocolates and pancakes at a dessert restaurant. 

Tell him about your proudest moments, your favourite everything, your biggest adventures, your fondest dreams, so he can soak you in. 

He’ll tell you about his own escapades, drops some big names, about his early days on earth, and so on. 

Somewhere you can spend hours chitchatting, sharing stories, and getting to know each other, while getting high on sugar and playing footsie under the table. 

Jack

Isn’t sure which is most appropriate or which you would like most, so he brings you all the gifts! Chocolate, flowers, soft toys, you name it! 

But then he gets nervous and thinks it’s too much, so he only gives you the flowers.

Until you’re halfway through your date, when things are just easy and relaxed. He confesses and gives you the other stuff at the end of your date. 

As for the date itself it would be something classic but fun; bowling, mini golf, roller skating. 

If it’s score-based, he won’t be competitive, but also will not let you win. 

If the venue does food, and you’re struggling to pick he’ll order your second choice so the two of you can split and share.

Will find any excuse to try and hold your hand throughout. 

Lucifer 

Does not bring a gift. Come on, he’s all the gift you need. 

Lucifer is not easy to take on a date. (He’s not easy in any regard really.) Especially when you take into account his distaste for all things human.

If he’s earnestly asked you on a date/agreed to a date, then the only salvageable factor is you. No pressure.   

And it's not like he can just fly you away to another galaxy or something, cause you know, human bodies don’t tend to do well in the vacuum of space. 

Plus, he’s so contraire you could spend hours listing ideas and he would bat down every single one. (Secretly loving every moment because he gets to spend time with you, making you laugh as he comes up with more and more ridiculous reasons to reject your ideas). 

Really though, just take him with you on your daily routine, or even like, your ideal day. Let him bitch about all the humans in the grocery store, let him try your favourite foods, him laugh at the kid who dropped their ice cream, and let him watch you geek out at the book/video/hobby store without embarrassment. Just let him experience your true self, while letting him be his true self. 

No policing him, just pure unadulterated freedom with the person he loves.    

Michael 

Brings you chocolates, but not like fancy ones. Adam advised that gifts were customary in human dating culture, but didn’t specify which kind, so he got you a selection of candy bars, the same kind that Adam seems to enjoy. 

Something outdoorsy and active but with a view; Hiking, rock climbing, or even just a long walk on the beach. 

Something where you can find a nice place to settle and watch the clouds and/or stars together. 

If stargazing, he will teach you about the different constellations, their creation, and their stories. 

Will be absolutely enamoured if you already know some of it and are able to have a back-and-forth conversation. 

Adam also tried to teach him some other dating tricks, like fake stretching to put his arm around you, but that seems redundant. If he wants to put his arm around you, he will simply do so. 

Short circuits a little when you lean in closer and rest your head on his chest/shoulder. 

[eoieopda]

the one with mingyu and the twin bed

summary: you brought your boyfriend to your parents’ house for christmas dinner. he can’t get a grip because you can’t keep yours to yourself. pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader type: drabble (smut) | rating: 18+ | wc: 3.5k au: est. relationship, home for the holidays cw: teasing, teasing, teasing; unprotected sex; mingyu is a pouty lil simp; multiple orgasms; reader rides it like she stole it and has to keep him quiet in the process :’) a/n: nobody asked, i just have mingyu brain rot 🥲 🚨 MINORS OR AGELESS BLOGS WHO INTERACT WITH MY CONTENT WILL BE BLOCKED. MY WORK IS NOT FOR YOU.

You might kill him. And really, if that’s not your goal, it’s still the most likely result. This road you’ve chosen starts with a squeeze of his knee under the table, travels up his thigh and — well, Mingyu can imagine how it ends, but not when or where. That’s the problem.

Well, that’s the primary problem. 

The worst part about it all is that you look so unbothered by it all. You’re laughing through conversation with your parents, who sit on the opposite side of the table, like Mingyu isn’t on the brink of passing the fuck out beside you. Like his slacks aren’t squeezing the life out of him in the same torturous way your hand is. 

You’re moving so slowly that the table cloth doesn’t even flutter with your secret ministrations.

He knew you were a devil, but what fresh hell is this?

“— feeling okay?”

Mingyu has to blink himself back into reality to realize he’d been spoken to. Your father, who Mingyu had thankfully met before tonight — and made a positive, sustainable first impression on — looks concerned. His eyebrows furrow the same way yours do when you’re worried.

“Sorry,” Mingyu starts by clearing his throat. He flashes a smile that makes your mother blush, not unlike the way you usually do. “I was daydreaming about that galbi jjim from earlier. Don’t know if I’ll ever eat better.”

That’s a lie, he thinks immediately. Dessert is one seat over, fingertips whispering over his inseam, and Mingyu’s mouth is already watering at the thought. But he’s stuck. You’re untouchable as long as the pair of you are at this table, and you’re untouchable upstairs for more reasons than one. 

Your mother is flustered — so is Mingyu, but for an entirely different reason — and she glances up at your father. His smile is a flat line, but it reads like approval. She elbows him gently.

“See, yeobo?” She quips, “I told you he was charming.” 

Then, she turns to look at you with a firm nod. “You picked well.”

“To be clear, Mingyu picked me,” You laugh, waving your free hand dismissively.  “With the amount of girls queuing up for his attention, he had options — a lot of them. I just lucked out.”

At this, he short-circuits, so much so that he nearly sprays the wine he’s sipping all over the table and your unsuspecting parents. 

“Oh, no, no. Not even close,” He sputters, earning a surprised giggle from your mother. Faked offense pulls the corners of his mouth down, puckers his lips into an pout around his words. “I had to beg for your phone number, if I recall —”

“Did you really?” Your mother gasps. Her hand flies up to cover her mouth, as if she’s watching one of the daytime dramas she’s always talking about.

Your father looks smug as he reaches his arm out over the table, fingers closed over his palm. The hand you aren’t using to commit unspeakable crimes lifts to meet his fist over the acorn jelly, knuckles tapping lightly. 

Your father smirks, “That’s my girl.”

You look at Mingyu fully now, not from the corner of your eye the way you had been. It’s downright spooky how your face can look that innocent at a time like this. That is, until you bite down on your plush lower lip.

Fuck.

Is he about to faint? He really might faint.

“Okay, fine. You’re right,” You demur with a shrug.

That sweet smile of yours is unbelievably misleading, but goddamn, does it look good on you.

“I didn’t make it very easy for you, did I?” 

He tries not to clench his jaw when you flatten your palm and squeeze the highest, innermost part of his thigh. He fails miserably. After all, you’re running out of real estate; and Mingyu’s running out of resolve. 

This is it for me, he thinks. Remember me as I was: a fucking simp.

Thankfully, both of your parents stand up to carry dishes off to be washed. They cross the threshold into the kitchen and miss the way Mingyu’s head slumps back against his chair. So desperate and defeated, he ignores the way his skull aches after colliding with the oak backrest.

He squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the sweet release of death.

When their footfalls are no longer audible, Mingyu assumes they’re out of sight. You shift, but he doesn’t crack his eyes open until he feels the heat of your breath on the shell of his ear. His gaze locks on the ceiling when you whisper, “Can you blame me? It’s so cute when you beg.”

If his dick strains any harder against his pants, the zipper may break.

“You’re trying to kill me,” Mingyu gulps. He shakes his head, voice wavering. “Baby, I’m gonna drop dead in your childhood home — on Christmas, no less — and it’s gonna be all your fault.”

The tip of your nose nudges the side of his face as you place a kiss on his earlobe. The white knuckle grip he holds on the edge of the table is the only thing keeping him together, and you know it. Still, the feather-light touch of your fingertips finds what it’s after. They trace the outline of his bulge through his slacks, and before he can stop himself, Mingyu audibly sighs.

He’d tell you to stop if he could jumpstart his brain. That’s a lie, he corrects himself. He doesn’t want you to stop; he just wants you. Wants you so badly that it hurts.

“Attempted murder,” Mingyu mumbles helplessly.

God, he’s pathetic.

Head slumped to the side, he finally allows himself to look at you. Immediately, he has to wonder: is there anyone who wouldn’t beg for you? He’d be on his knees in a heartbeat if your parents weren’t loading a dishwasher, several meters away. He’d clear the table himself, too,  if sweeping his arm overtop and sending silverware to the ground counted for anything.

Unbothered by the internal crisis you’ve started in him, you stroke him slowly, like you have all the time in the world to end him; and not a care at all that you might get caught in the process. The kiss you leave on his jaw is so soft — and so laughably chaste, all things considered — that he’s not sure it even happened. To keep from pleading out loud, he grinds his teeth even more harshly together.

Are you there, God? It’s me, Mingyu.

His prayers are answered immediately, which makes him a little bit suspicious — and a lot more feral.

You hum, amusement downright musical, and he shivers. “I’m going to help them finish down here. Wait for me upstairs?”

When Mingyu shoots up to his feet, the force of his thighs against the underside of the table threatens to flip it. The remaining wine glasses wobble in place, but thankfully, you’d all killed the bottle some time ago; no drop is left to be spilled. He still cringes at the close call, though. With a grimace, he mutters rapid-fire apologies — whether to you, the glassware, or the God of Dirty Thoughts, he’s not sure. 

You trap your bottom lip between your teeth to keep from laughing, which Mingyu appreciates. His clumsiness would have been embarrassing if he wasn’t so incomprehensibly horny. All that blood flow has been redirected away from his brain, though, and his dirty mind can’t focus on how not cool he’s being about all of this. 

Just you, that little smirk on your lips, and the million ways he wants your mouth on him.

Once he steadies himself, it only takes a second for Mingyu to race towards the stairs. Any and all chill he might’ve had is left behind him in a cloud of dust.

It’s downright cartoonish, the way he scrambles up the steps — stumbling, knees colliding with the hardwood as he goes — but it’s effective. He reaches the landing in record time, then all but kicks open the door to your childhood bedroom. As soon as the doorknob collides with the wall behind it, Mingyu freezes in place.

That wall, he realizes, is the only barrier between your room and your parents’. Worse, your old bed is set longways against that very wall. And because the hits just keep on coming, it’s a twin bed. 

With a frilly purple duvet and shockingly minimal surface area, no less.

Horrified, Mingyu steps forward and places his hand flat against the small mattress. It doesn’t take much pressure to make the bed springs squeak — when has anything ever gone his way? — and that revelation nearly has him screaming obscenities at the ceiling.

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

How is he supposed to fuck you under these conditions?

Frantic, he closes the door behind him, shuffles forward, and drops to his knees next to the bed. At his height, the frame barely reaches his midriff. Clearly, his life is a fucking joke.

Elbows now resting on the mattress, Mingyu clasps his hands together and leans forward to rest his forehead against his knuckles.

He’s never tried this before — not earnestly, anyway — and he doesn’t know where to start. Whatever the reason, he’s sure he can’t pray to any listening deity to let him get his dick wet. Anyone who hears his cry would smite him on the spot, he thinks, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Before he can settle on a prayer, footsteps sound off on the stairs just outside the door. The words are muffled; but there are multiple voices, which tells him that one or both of your parents have joined you on your journey upstairs. Suddenly, Mingyu is overcome with guilt. 

He’s in their home, having eaten their food — and now he’s a full-blown heretic, wanting nothing more than to devour their daughter like a man starved. But he can’t because, if he does, they’ll hear every dirty detail and —

Mingyu is many things, but he is not quiet.

You are, however, and he can barely make it out when you say, “Thank you, again, for dinner. And for letting us stay overnight.”

“Oh, don’t you dare!” Your mother peeps. Mingyu freezes, knowing in the rational part of his brain she can’t see him, but unable to stop himself. “It’s our pleasure! Really, it’s a long drive back for you two —”

Your father interjects, “— and Mingyu must be exhausted if he’s already in bed.”

For personal reasons, he thinks as he squeezes his eyes shut, I will be passing away.

There’s a moment of silence in which you must be hugging your parents goodnight, then there’s the quiet creak of the door opening. Footsteps, then more silence — you pausing for a moment, likely taking in the sight of him, then the door shutting softly behind you.

He can’t hear your approach over the hammering pulse in his ears, but he can feel the warmth of your body when you stand closely behind him. On instinct, he leans back onto his heels. A reflex of your own, you card your fingers through his hair and turn him into putty.

As embarrassing as it is to reckon with the fact, Mingyu acknowledges that the massage of your fingers might make him cum in his trousers.

“Were you praying?” You whisper, giggle evident despite the hushed tone. Your fingernails rake gently over his scalp; he swallows hard.

Mingyu is past the point of attempting nonchalance, so he confesses immediately. “Need divine intervention at a time like this. A twin bed? Parents? I’m doomed.”

“Maybe.” You lean down over his shoulder to purr into his ear. “Doomed or not, you look so perfect on your knees.”

That comment reverberates down his spine, ricochets off every vertebrae as it goes. He has to bite down on his fist to keep from groaning. It sure as shit doesn’t stop his eyes from rolling back in his head.

You drop your hand from his hair to trail your fingers down the length of his neck, then across the top of his shoulder. As you do, you step out from behind him and into his line of sight. You, illuminated only by a small, butterfly-shaped lamp, confirm his suspicions:

Ariana Grande was right all along. God is a woman.

You maintain eye contact as you reach behind your back and begin unzipping your dress. The burgundy fabric pools at your bare feet, having slipped right over the silkiness of your thighs without issue. If he wasn’t already in his knees, Mingyu would’ve dropped the same way.

“How confident are you that you can be quiet?” You ask softly. “Stakes are high, and you’re normally so vocal.”

Right out of the gate, he trips.

Mingyu responds with bravado and without whispering, “I can do it.”

Then, he slaps his hand over his big fucking mouth.

Biting back a smile, you reach out for the collar of his shirt. The buttons are undone with care, like any and every decibel is too much of a risk. You hum as you continue your work, “We can make it a challenge, then. If you can stay quiet, I’ll let you cum.” 

He lets you slide his shirt off his frame as soon as you’re finished with it. It lands where your dress did, wrinkling white on top of red.

“If you can’t  —” You pause and gesture down to his belt buckle, which he’s already gripping tightly to. It’s undone before you can blink, which causes the side of your mouth to twitch upwards. “— I’ll stop.”

Mingyu nods, more determined than he’s ever been, and pushes himself to his feet. Less nimbly than you, he fumbles desperately with the button and zipper at the top of his trousers. Eventually, he frees himself and they drop, too. They land with a muffled sound before being kicked blindly aside.

Your gaze drops to his briefs, pupils dilating when you see the mess you’ve made of him. The dark grey fabric is close to black at the tip of his dick, arousal seeping into the fibers and tattling on him. That is, if the blatantly thick imprint of his length hadn’t sold him out already.

His knees threaten to buckle all over again when he sees a flash of pink swipe over your lips, wetting them as your eyes grow even darker.

No, he really might cum on the spot.

You step over your discarded clothes. Closing the distance, you flatten your palms against his bare chest, push up on your toes, and kiss him properly for the first time in hours. His only instinct is to whine like a fucking baby when his lips part and you lick into his mouth, but he refuses to break this close to the starting whistle.

No, Mingyu will keep his shit together. He has to keep his shit together — even as you suck his bottom lip into your mouth and release it swollen with a pop.

“What do you want, baby?”

He doesn’t know if it’s his chest or your hands that are burning up, but a wildfire spreads as you run your palms down from his pectorals to his abdomen. Every muscle in his body tenses as your touch lowers. His lungs seem to, too, because he struggles to keep his breaths even.

Your fingers hook under the waistband of his briefs, knuckles tickling against the sensitive skin underneath his hip bones. You continue your questioning, as if he trusts himself to answer.

“My mouth?”

Oh god.

He wants it all, always and every which way, but he knows he won’t last a goddamn second in your throat — and you know it, too, even before he furiously shakes his head. 

Eyes laser focused on you, he does his best to beg without words. The puppy-dog eyes win you over every time.

When you smile at him like that — petal soft, still so devilish — he audibly sighs. There’s no helping him, he knows it. It’s a reflex, a rubber mallet to the knee. Thankfully, you let that breathy concession slide; let his briefs slide, too, until they drop unwanted around his ankles.

Mingyu is so hard that it hurts.

He’s a throbbing, leaking mess when your hand finally — fucking finally — wraps around his cock. Experimentally, you give him a light squeeze while you work the length. Your gaze flicks upwards to gauge his reaction, wrist rolling when you reach the crown.

If he had to guess, Mingyu would bet that he’s turned purple with the effort it’s taking to keep his needy mouth shut. But your eyes twinkle up at him and you tell him that he’s beautiful; and suddenly, his chest and cheeks go a shy shade of pink.

“Lay down, pretty boy,” you whisper, nodding your head towards that shitty little bed.

As he stretches out onto his back — to the best of his ability, with his heels nearly dangling off the end — he swears on his life that his friends can never know how weak he gets when you call him that.

You place your hands on his chest to keep your balance, lifting one leg over his until you’re straddling him. Your right knee settles uncomfortably between his leg and the wall, but you don’t complain. Instead, you look him dead in the eye and pull your fatal, black thong to the side.

Even in this piss-poor lighting, Mingyu can see the way your darkened eyes glint. He’s spellbound — there’s no other word to describe it.

One hand takes hold of his cock and lines it up to your cunt. The other raises to your lips, index finger extended. You tease him without saying a word, and he hears it loud and clear.

Oh, he’s going to be so good for you.

That’s what he tells himself until your arousal makes contact with the tip of his cock. That’s what he repeats in his head, over and over, when you sink down and gush around him, slick dripping to coat the centimeters that don’t quite fit inside of you. What he says out loud, elongated and definitely above a whisper, is:

“Fuuuuck.”

You quickly lean over his chest to cover his mouth with your hand. Though your pulses are both racing, he’s less focused on his total, abject embarrassment than he is on the amusement that causes your mouth to curve.

Keeping your hand where it is — for the good of everyone, really — you nip at his earlobe. He waits for the inevitable consequence of his actions.

Goddamn it. How stupid does he have to be to forfeit a prize like you?

“You don’t listen very well, baby,” Your hushed tone drips like honey into his ear. Involuntarily, his hips jerk upwards, pushing further into your wet heat.

Any distance is too much.

“But you feel so fucking good —”

Again, he ruts against you when your teeth graze his earlobe. Under your palm, his whimpering is unintelligible, but that doesn’t stop him. You catch his groan in your hand before it can hit the air.

“— might have to bend the rules for you.”

It’s torture. 

Mingyu knows you’re moving this slowly to avoid upsetting the box springs below, but whether or not there’s method to the madness, it’s still unbearable.

You swirl your hips in a way that makes his vision go white at the edges, grind down into his lap with quiet precision. He can feel that soft, spongy spot hiding behind your front wall; and he can hear those delicate little sighs as you fuck yourself deliberately.

He can feel his mind go blank, too, moments before your cunt milks him for all he’s worth. You don’t stop once he spills himself inside of you — you won’t, he hopes.

“Oh, shit,” you whimper, almost inaudibly. “I’m so close.”

The hand not covering his mouth disappears between your legs. If the way your eyes roll back is any indication, you’ve found what you were looking for. 

The sight of you is too much for Mingyu to handle. Nipples peaking through the translucent fabric of your bralette, wrist moving in the opposite direction of your hips, eyelashes fluttering while you rub spirals into your clit. Perfect, top to bottom.

Mingyu cums again when you do, refractory period be damned.

And when you collapse down onto his chest, walls still fluttering around him, he encircles you with his arm so tightly that he can feel you trembling through the aftershocks. With your face now nuzzled into the crook of his neck, the tables turn.

“Fuck,” you mutter. The sound is mostly lost against his skin, but there’s enough volume to make you both start to snicker.

You kiss his neck, nudge him with the tip of your nose. Whispering, you ask, “Not bad for a twin bed, huh?”

Mingyu snorts. “Kinda feels like high school. You know, parents on the other side of the wall, cute little bedspread,” His voice trails off so he can press his lips against your temple. Voice low in your ear, he smirks, “Nutting within thirty seconds.”

Your muffled laughter shakes his shoulders, too. Then, you fall into a silence so easy he’s sure you’ve fallen asleep on top of him. To his surprise, you peep, “I didn’t think this through.”

He hums inquisitively in response. You crane your neck to meet his eyes. 

You inhale deeply, then sigh, “I have to waddle down the hallway of my childhood home to the bathroom — right past my parents’ door — and pretend like we didn’t just do what we did.”

Mingyu flashes you a wolfish grin that catches you off guard. Your eyebrows raise in anticipation.

“Need some divine intervention, sounds like. Maybe if you pray about it —” 

The only thing louder than the playful smack you land on his bicep is your laugh, straight from the bottom of your chest.

[claraswritings]

Can I Be The One?

Summary: Luca is your childhood friend who has fallen in love with you. Carmy meets you through him and falls for you too Vignettes throughout the years knowing them.

Pairing: Chef Luca x female!Reader / Carmen Berzatto x female!Reader- I have never done this before. There’s TWO ENDINGS so you can pick whichever hot chef boyfriend you want.

Warnings: angst with a happy ending, negative inner monologue, allusions to a panic attack, language, slow burn (sort of…it’s a fic which spans years), Google translate used, short smut in both endings, friends to lovers.

Notes:

1. In 2.04 in Luca’s kitchen there’s a handwritten sign that says “Jeg elsker dig” which is I love you according to Google translate 😭. So I wrote that into the Luca ending because who wrote that to him. WHO?who?WHO?WHO?… It was you if you want it to be.

2. I am so up for expanding both of these CHOOSE timelines. If anyone has any ideas for blurbs or just wants to chat pop up.

———————————————————————————

LUCA

PARIS

After some years of Luca working in London restaurants and climbing the ladder, he’d built his skills up at a rapid pace impressing just about everyone, including himself with how good he was. You’d been there for him like you promised through it all, his first successful promotion where he was tasked with coming up with a new dessert. You’d brainstorm with him and hold plates steady whilst he practiced assembly. You were there his countless attempts at spun sugar that you wound up having to pick out of his hair. The day he’d perfected his technique on that had been a relief, both for Luca and you but a sad day for the fine tooth comb industry. Seeing him flourish and be successful made you so happy. People were finally seeing Luca as you saw him. Talented, patient, dedicated and hardworking. Finally, he had something he loved that he could put all of his pent up energy into.

Every time he was offered the chance to a new place, he’d asked you to come with him and every time it had been an easy decision.

Given that you’d studied languages and spoke several, you’d agree with a joke that you’d be his unofficial translator in exchange for being his taste tester. It was easy for you to get freelance work wherever you went so it became you and Luca, travelling the world together.

Only a few weeks ago he’d asked you to come to Paris with him so he could learn new pastry techniques over there and stage at a restaurant, you’d once again agreed knowing you’d be able to pick up some translation work online.

“He speaks French and English by the way.” You said as you made your way back to the Paris Air BnB you’d been staying in over the past month. “He was fucking with the staff.” You continued, referring to the government official who allegedly spoke no English or French.

“I don’t think government officials ‘mess with’ people.” Luca looked down at you and pulled a face, “He was pretty old”

On this particular night he’d called you saying there was a restaurant emergency, a government official had requested off-menu, however when said official arrived, he stared blankly at any attempts to communicate in French or English.

“Don’t they?” You said, “I hate to break it to you but I think that is pretty much the byline of their job description.”

“I think…I think he was just being a dickhead.”

“Also in their job description, darling.” you whistled lowly, laughing as you looked up at him.

The way you called him that. It felt sweet, personable and rolled off the tongue and he suddenly felt it heavy in the Paris summer. Did it feel as loaded to him as it did to you? Probably not. You were so friendly and personable to everyone. Luca shook his head and tried not to make it obvious.

Of course he’d thought about you like that. It had started in fleeting moments.

The first day of his first kitchen job, or several years ago when he went to your university graduation and you’d held his arm as you walked across the grass to have photos taken, or last year you’d stopped in to see him, KFC bucket in hand after your relationship ended (Luca hated the guy anyway), or last month you’d tried 20 different variations of the same caramelized banana dessert he’d made even if you never were overly keen on banana because he’d really, really wanted to impress this celebrity chef that was coming into where he was working as sous chef.

It had become more frequent over the years with a hundred other times in between until he couldn’t remember when it had become harder and harder to put it down to a fleeting thought and closer to ‘I think I might be in love with my best friend’

“You’re messing with me aren’t you?” Luca asked, cocking his head to the side.

“He seemed to understand when I dropped it towards the end of the meal and thanked him sounding like this.” You gestured at yourself “So I’m going to go with…no, he understood…”

“Fucking hell” Luca let out low exhale and then laughed. “Hey…thanks again for helping, the CDC has offered you a free meal.”

“Why do you think I came down.” You joked. “Well that and I like hearing about what you’re making” you added on sincerely.

“You like me being a nerd about desserts?” Luca cocked his head, a slightly teasing tone in his voice

“Yeah but I like it. It’s actually really interesting you talking about your technique” You replied back “it’s like vocal food porn or something”

“Nah,” He laughed loudly at your description and elbowed you jokingly in the sides. “You just have a sweet tooth. I can promise you most people are not that interested.”

“Pfft their loss.…” You looped your arm through his and continued “You know I’m so proud of you, Luca, how much energy and love you put into this. It’s so cool. You’ve improved so much since your first dish and you just keep getting better.”

You were there in the restaurant for the first time a dish he’d fully made himself was served in the London restaurant he’d started at. Thai green curried pineapple. It had gone out first to the table next to you and you’d watched the woman keenly, waiting for her reaction. She’d loved it , of course she had, it was made by Luca. It was an open kitchen so you’d shot him a subtle thumbs up when you caught him staring through, fingers drumming over his mouth, nervous, hoping to alleviate his nerves. You’d proceeded to rave about the dish and her reaction, in detail, to him, all the way home, so excitedly, that you were sure half of the tube heard you. Your pride in him calmed his nerves, put him at ease, not just because you were his supportive best friend, but because it would be impossible to fake your enthusiasm.

Luca turned his head, not wanting to meet your eye for fear he’d run his mouth off ‘Couldn’t do it without you, thank you for always being there for me through it all, by the way I think I might have fallen in love with you’

“Thanks… not just for that, I mean for everything…” he stopped and mentally chastised himself for acting so awkward “How are you finding it?” He asked instead “I ask a lot of you, I know”

“Luca. I get to travel the world with my best friend, working from beautiful locations, whilst he lives his dream. It’s incredible.”

You were looking up at him, smiling, clearly ecstatically happy . And why wouldn’t you be. In a beautiful city with your best friend.

He knew he was your best friend but hearing you call him that felt weird. ‘You ARE her best friend, you’re not her boyfriend. Did you forget? Can master passionfruit macarons in a day but can’t understand that?

“Oh…by the way…I got you something.”

Your voice pulled him from his thoughts as you paused on the middle of the path and opened your bag with your free hand and passed him a napkin and written on it was a phrase in French.

“Still keeping up with that tradition?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah I might be.” You teased back. “Don’t pretend I don’t know you love them!”

Luca of course loved the little tradition you’d started and had to fight back the grin that was threatening to break out on his face but he couldn’t.

You’d leave him a message written in the language of wherever he was working at the time. ‘Good luck’ on a napkin for his first role in London, There was one from a trip of Venice (‘You’re the best <3’- sei il migliore), and another from Seville (‘You’ve got this <3’ - tienes esto) and one from Rotterdam (‘I believe in you <3’ - ik geloof in jou). They’d made their way into books, notes from each place he’d visited, pressed between pages as memories.

The newest one in French was ‘I am so proud of you’ - je suis si fier de toi <3

He would keep it with him tucked into a pocket until you left Paris for Chicago and he’d move it into a notebook alongside a step by step for Canelés, a photo of the first time he’d made a Paris-Brest and tickets from your first visit to the Louvre and one of you he’d taken, candid, looking up at the sparkling Eiffel Tower.

———————————————————————————

BOTH

CHICAGO

All you had heard about since Luca had started working at Ever, a 3 star Chicago restaurant, was this other chef.

Every day. All day.

He’d come home to you sounding off. ‘Carmen did this better than me, Carmen is quicker than me, Carmen pitted two bags of peas when everyone else had only pitted half of one,’

You knew Luca wasn’t used to being second best and you knew it was getting to him. He’d been the best everywhere he’d been, except now.

Luca would stay up later and later in an attempt to get better, sometimes only sleeping for an hour. It was as if he felt like all his hard work would be for nothing and he’d be back as the guy who barely passed his exams and got in trouble all the time. You’d wake up, go to the kitchen for breakfast and find Luca had been up for three hours practicing folding dough or picking seeds out of strawberries or whatever the head chef had them doing the day before.

You were growing concerned, you knew why it was bothering him and had voiced to him several times to varying results that there was nothing wrong with being second best sous chef at a Michelin star restaurant. This other guys ability didn’t make him less.

After listening to Luca explain that Carmen managed to get the layering of butter and dough just perfect for croissants and had made two dozen whilst everyone else was still on their first and how he could brown a baked alaska in 15 seconds without the ice cream melting, you’d suggested that maybe he should become friends with him.

“Why don’t you ask him how he does it?” You asked him “Maybe he’d be happy to share?”

“What?”

Luca looked in thought for a moment, as if he was only just clicking this was an option, considering it before you continued.

“I’m worried about how hard you’re pushing yourself, bit of competition is fine but you’ll wear yourself out at this rate…Plus maybe there’s something you can show him that he might need to know”

He knew you were right. You usually were. Typical of you to be able to rationalise his thoughts within minutes. Of course you’d suggest he becomes friends with Carmen, why wouldn’t you... ‘You know me too well, you’re good at knowing what I need to hear.’

***

You hadn’t expected Luca to literally show up with Carmen the next day.

And the next, and the next and the next.

If you were honest, you didn’t know what you were expecting from this guy Luca had ranted about for weeks but you’d gotten on with him far more than you expected. Carmen had been shy at first but as you spent more time with him, you’d grown to liked his quiet humour and how remarkably observant he was. He instantly noticed your jeans as vintage Levi 501s, the only type of jean you’d worn since you could remember and eventually he’d become friends with both of you.

Carmen had taken a liking to you, surprising even himself. You were warm, friendly, and outgoing. You had this incredible ability to make absolutely anyone feel like the only person in the room.

Like when he or Luca broke down the process of making the dish they’d made, you’d be looking like it was describing the most interesting story you’d heard.

Questions like ‘so how do you curl the red pepper tuiles? Is that with a knife or am I a total idiot?’ and ‘is it always a green apple in the sugar dome?’ and ‘how do you know when the yuzu jelly is done?’ Even the things you’d say like ‘Can you make Le Tendance with white chocolate or does it have to be dark’

Carmy knew you probably didn’t know the difference between the different types of pans he mentioned or why it mattered. There was no stake in the debate he and Luca had been having over compressed watermelon sorbet for you. But you cared. You always cared.

It was endearing and made him feel appreciated, kept him passionate about cooking even after a long day so he warmed to you, like you’d inadvertently got a part of him, given him a quiet understanding and support, he desperately craved but thought he’d never get.

He was achingly jealous of Luca and your unwavering love and support. It was evident from how you’d gush supportively over Luca perfecting edible flowers or lychee creme or whatever. Carmy desperately craved more of the warmth and love you gave so freely.

****

“Here.”

Carmy pushed a plate of spaghetti gratin towards you. “uh, try it, lemme know what you think. Something I’ve…erm, been..working on.”

“For me?” You grinned excitedly, not even waiting for him to nod before picked up your fork and helped yourself to some, slipping it past your lips.

“Holy fuck” you moaned as the taste hit you. “That’s amazing, Carmy, so good…”

“Better than that one in Mayfair?” Luca asked, from beside you, with a small smile. Your eyes met his and you nodded causing him to smirk. “Told you it was good, man” he said to Carmy patting him on the shoulder “this guys good at everything!”

“Oh god yeah” you took another bite “Fuck me this is…wow.”

“See…” Luca nodded encouragly “And thats high praise from her. She loves that place!”

“Wha’ one in Mayfair?” Carmy turned to you, curious. He hadn’t been but he knew there was a large list of fine dining places there and was keen to know what, or rather, who you had to compare his against.

“Murano. My family used to have dinner there once a week” you explained “…it’s an incredible restaurant. It does the best spaghetti gratin I’ve ever had…” you dug your fork in again and helped yourself to more, pausing as you did “Well… until this one. Have you been to London? We should all go.”

You were effortlessly likeable, funny. Colourful flowers and feathers snaking their way up your arm, a little silver nose ring, vintage jeans and leather jackets. ‘Of course handsome Luca would have a cool girlfriend like you.’

“You two married long or…” Carmy had asked before he could stop himself and immediately winced at how he’d just blurted it out, kicking himself internally.

Beside him, Luca attempted to cover up his surprised expression as quickly as possible and wondered if it was noticeable how he tensed. Did Carmy have a thing for you? What would you say? Obviously she’s going to say you’re not together because guess what? You’re not. Just because you’ve deluded yourself into thinking she’s your girl doesn’t mean she is. Don’t fuck up the one consistent relationship you’ve had in your life.

“Oh…we’re not, we’re not married, he’s my best friend.” You said off hand as you pulled the fork from your mouth, slowly.

“Oh…I tho…” Carmy stopped himself as he caught Luca’s eye. Did he know?

The pair of them held the silence for a few seconds, each wondering if the other was as into you as they were. Luca moved first, dropping his hand from where it was resting over his lips, as if he meant to speak but you beat him to it

“Can I eat all of this?” You pointed at the dish with your fork.

And like that the moment was gone. You’d changed the subject, completely unaware of the tension in the air.

Carmy nodded. He liked that you always wanted another taste. In the kitchen, taste tests were usually quick, a bite to give some feedback and then on to the next. Here in the kitchen of a rental you’d got a short lease on was different.

The need you had for more of what he served gave him more confidence, reassured him. It somehow felt more rewarding than a colleague having a test only to say ‘Perfect, chef. Thanks’.

And Against all odds and all expectations, he’d found himself also wanting more.

———————————————————————————

CARMY

LONDON

You’d left Chicago with Luca after a few months to move to Copenhagen but had promised to keep in touch. From when you arrived, you’d been raving about it to him. How beautiful it was, how relaxed you felt there, so when he’d been offered the chance to go over to Noma and work, he’d been all too happy to go.

Truth be told, he also missed you. Calls and texts a were not cutting it.

Carmy was never one for answering the phone. Maybe it was a defense mechanism with Mikey never answering and not wanting to get his hopes up that it was his brother finally reaching out. Until you. If anything he found himself calling or texting you even when he was tired.

Talking to you helped switch off the static in his head, it was like you were his reminder to stay grounded, stay in the moment.

Carmy had scheduled his flights so he’d have a few days in London before his flight to Copenhagen, mostly to try the places you’d recommended. He’d reached out to ask for the details and it had just so happened you’d been in town for a friends wedding. You’d offered to come meet you the day after, he’d agreed in a second, happy for the opportunity to spend time with you.

****

Markets sprawled across different corners of the city, each with their own individual personality and you seemed to know them like the back of your hand. He’d let you lead, and it was the fourth one you’d been to with him today and at each one you’d insisted on buying from numerous stalls and making him try a variety of things of varying quality as well as buying yourself a pin that went straight onto the denim jacket you had slung loosely over your shoulders.

“Sometimes it’s good, sometimes less so, you know” you hooked your legs over the bench you’d managed to get to before a large group of school kids. “I know it’s not fancy but I just love the markets. All of ‘em”

“I can get not fancy,” Carmen laughed, something he noticed he did more often around you. It had become almost alien to smile or enjoy himself but with you it came naturally “I don’t really cook for myself all tha’ much” He helped himself to some of your bang-bang noodles and twisted them around with his chopsticks “it’s comfort food. I get it,”

“Yeah I bet…Come home after cooking all day, you probably just want something you can put in the microwave.”

“Sometimes not even that So a week ago? Had leftover pizza and I’m talkin’ anymore leftover and I think it woulda just been gone off pizza. Didn’t even re-heat it”

“I don’t know if that’s gross or impressive!” You laughed and it made Carmy smile, he loved it that he could draw that reaction from you and loved that he smiled, really smiled, with you. He couldn’t remember the last time he could be like that around someone.

You paused for a minute, taking a drink from your can of Diet Coke before you spoke again.

“Reservations at eight by the way. I don’t know if it’ll compare but I wanted you to try it.”

“Reservation?” Carmy tilted his head, wondering if he’d forgotten something.

“Yeah.” You nodded giving him a wide grin “it’s a great restaurant in the Shard. You don’t think I’d take a chef to London and not try somewhere did you?”

****

That evening he found himself in a navy dress shirt he’d bought that same day sitting across from you. You’d changed into a little black dress, a small cardigan that was over your shoulders, sliding slightly down and he could see a pink peony on your shoulder.

If he was honest, he half been expecting Luca to show up but when you’d approached the maitre d, he’d greeted you by name and said ‘table for two’ and Carmy had silently breathed a sigh of relief and then instantly felt guilty over it.

Luca was a nice guy. Carmy sometimes wished he was a raging asshole so it would be easier to put his jealousy of him down to that and not his proximity and closeness to you.

****

“You look really good in navy.” You complimented, cutting through his thoughts. The waiter just had cleared away one of the other countless courses, a sous vide duck, that was as expected; delicious, even if he’d have opted for a different garnish.

Carmy felt his heart pick up. Had you just been sitting there thinking he looked good? He felt himself smile a little but was quick to downplay it, blinking back a response “you… you think?”

“Yeah, Navy really suits you, Carmy. You should wear it more often...”

‘Done’ he thought to himself.

“Thanks, I mean you, uh, you look nice too,”

You smiled at him but before you could respond, the waiter was at your table again, with a further course. Steamed chocolate sponge, baked white chocolate and sugar snap salad, the first of a few desserts.

“Wow” you muttered and you pointed at the plate “this looks so good…” you watched him take a bite and nod approvingly before you asked “Is it weird being on this side of the wall? Doing the eating and not the cooking?”

“A little…uh, I guess it’s not often that m’not worrying about everything being perfect,” Carmy grimaced and ran a hand through his hair “I feel tuned into their kitchen even though I’ve never been in it. Is that weird?” His hand rested over his chin waiting for you to respond.

You shook your head “No… No I don’t think so…” you dropped your voice and leant in closer. He could smell your perfume, your shampoo and soap from your skin. “if so, it’s also weird that I can’t switch off the translating and have been evasdropping on that German couple,” you looked to your right with your eyes

Taking your joke as a distraction from how much he’d like to bury his lips in your neck and kiss you, he laughed and took a bite of his dish. You’d made a good decision, this restaurant was excellent as you’d promised it would be.

Is this what you did with Luca? Go travel and visit places with him and try new foods and laugh?

A mix between jealousy and confusion crossed his mind as the thought occurred and he found himself wondering how Luca could not make a fucking move.

Is he crazy or does he have the willpower of a fucking saint. The question rang in Carmens mind before ‘You’re not making a move either,’ he told himself internally ‘being jealous of her friend, being jealous of a guy she’s known since she was a kid. She’s not into you. She does not want you, fucko. She could do better than you. You can’t compete, she’s not going to want you. You just wish you’d had her all this time like Luca has don’t you, would you have been as fucked in the head if you’d had her supporting you all this time?

“Carmy?” You asked with a raised eyebrow. “You kinda went somewhere there? You good”

“Uh, yeah, imma just go for a quick smoke..” he began to stand up and excused himself as he did

“There’s no terrace, you’ll have to go to ground, you want me to come with?” You made a move to put down your fork, to go with him. You looked a little concerned like you weren’t 100% buying that it was a nicotine craving driving the need for air.

“No no, you stay here, jus’ need to…” he waved and headed out pressing the button to take him to the ground level.

Once Carmy was outside, he ignored the request for smokers not to loiter too close to the building and lit up, taking a drag and letting the nicotine hit, leaning back against one of the pillars.

‘I am so fucked’

———————————————————————————

BOTH

COPENHAGEN

“So the cat…?” Carmy started to ask

He’d been in the city a week, deciding he’d work in Copenhagen for a while before heading to New York, and had been staying on a houseboat that apparently had a cat. Despite the note asking him to leave water out for the cat. The water never moved and there was no cat ever there.

You and Luca shared a look and started laughing.

“We lived on this boat until recently. Six months and I never saw that cat once. Bowl never moved.” you said “My theory is that the cat died and they still leave water out for it, Luca’s convinced it was a stray. He still changed the water every day, which was pretty sweet of him…”

Luca tilted his head a little. You’d thought it was sweet? Him looking after some imaginary cat? Maybe he should get a real one and wondered if he should mention it to you. ‘Bit coupley isn’t it, getting a cat? Get a cat so she thinks it’s cute and sees you with the cat and…you still won’t tell her you’re in love with her will you’ Luca told himself internally. He couldn’t stop picturing it though and noted it down as a maybe for the future idea.

****

“Tell Carmy about that Home Economics class you had!” Luca took a sip of his drink as the three of you sat at the table of the houseboat, sharing a few drinks one evening.

“Oh!” You perked up putting down your own as you sat up on your seat “this is so funny! We had this teacher, who set us task to bring in a a lunch you made at home, now I totally forgot because I had my French mock exam that morning…so of course I had to think fast so I didn’t get detention!”

You paused for dramatic effect. Luca biting back a laugh knowing what was coming. “Still can’t believe you got away with that.” He shook his head.

“I went to KFC on my lunch and got the strips and two sides, the corn and the salad, I spent the rest of my lunch, deconstructing it… if you will..” you gestured dramatically “so cutting up the chicken, peeling the skin off, eating some of it, shelling the corn with a blunt compass,” you emphasised, thinking your skill was impressive, “and mixing it into the salad and pretended I’d made a chicken salad.”

“She got a fucking A as well,” Luca commented as Carmy laughed at your ridiculous improvisation. “Don’t know how, but apparently Mrs Kennedy had never had a KFC before!”

“You might have if you weren’t skiving.” You raised your eyebrows. “Forever bunking this one” you pointed at him but you were smiling fondly as you did.

“Hey, You skived sometimes too. I remember you skived off PE to go to that game with me!” Luca joked back, playfully poking you in the side

“Yeah went all that way, sat with your fans and we lost”

Your pout drew a smile from Luca who knew you supported his teams rival, before you continued “and that goal was still not offside!” you emphasised.

Luca began to insist that it was, with a playful grin, knowing he was winding you up at how aggrieved you were over a game that was well over decade old.

Carmy forced a smile at the back and forth between you and Luca, taking another sip of his own drink, hoping the coolness would quell the feeling inside.

He hated it that it bothered him that you and Luca had all these shared memories, that the only time you ever bickered was over your rival teams and even then it was teasing, that Luca had known all these different versions of you, that he probably would always have that shared bond with you.

You and Luca were now bantering back and forth in a playful way that made his chest hurt so he stood up and made his way to the kitchen and began shuffling through the drawers until he found something wedged between two of them.

“What the hell is this ?” Carmy couldn’t help himself as he pulled out the cheese knife. There is no way this was one of Luca’s that he’d left when he’d lived on the boat, meaning it had to be…

“Oh my god my knife!” You perked up, abandoning your spot at the table “I’d wondered that was!”

Your cheese knife.

Your old, falling apart, slightly…okay very, blunt cheese knife.

Luca had tried on multiple occasions to persuade you to get a new one but you’d insisted you liked your old one and trusted it. Until it disappeared when you moved off the houseboat and you assumed you’d accidentally knocked it into the water or something.

“Not that knife” Luca groaned as his eyes shot over to the black handled knife Carmy held. “I was hoping you’d lost that for good” he grinned half jokingly “but it just keeps coming back”

“It’s a knife, Luca, not a haunted doll!” You laughed “I must have just left it here before we moved!”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if it was haunted.” It was his turn to pull a face, first at you then at Carmy.

“Hey I got this knife my first year of University and…” you attempted to protest

“Yeah I can tell..” Carmy spoke, giving you a pointed look. “It’s falling apart!”

“It never failed me.” You continued ignoring both of them at this point “when I wanted a late night block of cheese it was there…”

“You coulda got a professional one or anythin’ that’s not some cheap whole sale crap”

“Actually, it was from Ikea.”

The shared expression of horror between the two men was enough for you to crack up and concede, knowing you could not defend your knife to one chef, let alone two.

“Okay” you threw your hands up “Fine… but how about we leave it here, on this boat…to…”

“Fuckin’ mentally scar any chef that might be put up here in the future?” Carmy added with a laugh and was only met with a swift side eye from you, followed by a sly smirk suggesting you knew he and Luca had convinced you.

****

“What’s the note say?” Carmy asked nodding at a piece of paper glued to the front of Luca’s first Copenhagen notebook. He’d taken it out to read over some notes, prepare himself and prep.

He knew it was likely in Danish but it didn’t look like one of the common phrases he’d tried, to little avail, to practice. It looked a bit like your writing, but he couldn’t be sure.

Luca felt a flood of warmth at the chance to talk about it.

“So it’s this little tradition we do, she writes me these sentences in whatever language of the country we’re staying in. They’re usually like, ‘Well done’ or ‘you’re the best’ or something.” he enthused

“Oh.” Was all Carmy could manage at first. The jealousy sat in his stomach in a way he wasn’t entirely comfortable with. Carmy hated that he was jealous but he wanted you to write him cute notes, phrases he’d only half understand “Sounds…erm, sounds nice.” was all he managed before his throat went dry.

“What are you drawing anyway?” Luca nodded at the half open notebook. As his eyes flickered down to the paper, Carmy felt his stomach drop, the breeze had blown the pages past the passionfruite posset, past the wagu beef, past the shaded menu options and right to…

You

Carmy couldn’t cover it quickly enough.

Luca just looked from the paper, back to Carmy, back to you and could feel his heartbeat in his ears.

Course Carmy likes her too. And he’s better than you at everything. She’d pick him you know. Probably already has. Why did you introduce them? That would be tragic. Introducing the one woman you’re desperately in love with to her future man and never making the move yourself. Had her as your best friend, your roommate and still couldn’t tell her you wanted her. You’re a fucking idiot.

He said your name.

“You like her?” Loud enough for Carmy but not for you. Carmy didn’t answer but he didn’t close over his book. “You into her?”

After a moment, Luca sighed, and scratched his cheek and sat beside him, accepting Carmy’s silence as confirmation.

“Yeah, me too mate.” He said quietly before passing his friend a drink.

———————————————————————————

LUCA

COPENHAGEN

With Luca securing his dream job and you able to work remotely, you’d found a bigger place together in Copenhagen. The temporary houseboat to a small place to this bigger apartment now, with a large open plan kitchen and a walk in pantry for Luca to store whatever he might need when he brought work home with him. You didn’t mind as long as he let you taste it.

You’d won the coin toss and scored the room that overlooked the water. Luca hadn’t complained, you worked mostly from home so it made sense for you to have the room with a view and also he’d have conceded anyway, knowing it would make you happy.

****

As Luca entered the room, he saw you from behind, a pair of mid thigh cycle shorts on and a large oversized black t-shirt, getting something out of the fridge. It slowly dawned on him that you were wearing his t-shirt.

The t-shirt on him was tight over his broad shoulders, stopping on his hips but on you, it hung loose and ended about at the end of your thigh, owing to the big height difference between the two of you. Making it look like it was all you were wearing. He’d seen you in shorts before, of course he had but this felt different. It was his t-shirt over the shorts making his brain go haywire.

“Hey!” You turned and greeted him, smiling. “How was work? Did that 70th birthday go well?”

“You’re…you’re wearing my shirt.” was all he could manage before he felt his throat dry up. “Are you?”

‘Get a grip man what are you a fucking teenager’ he chastised himself internally. You’ve drawn attention to it, you could have just enjoyed the view a little while longer…’

“Oh shit sorry, yeah, I just, I got stuff down mine and the doorbell was ringing and yours was at the top of the clean laundry. I didn’t think it was appropriate to open the door in just my bra.” You put what you needed on the counter and moved back beginning to prepare whatever you were making. “Not the best first impression. He might have got the wrong idea…”

Luca just hummed a laugh and didn’t say anything as he tried to stop his brain wandering to you wearing his shirt in other scenarios and he had to shut his eyes. He brought his hand to his temple, and massaged, hoping he could conceal his brain betraying him as tiredness.

“It was the landlord.” You carried on “He said rents due on the 2nd, the utility room is on the 5th floor and he’d like you to get him a reservation, he likes rhubarb and pistachio sorbet” you began relaying the translation of the landlords message.

It was around a minute later he realised he hadn’t actually replied being too busy thinking about, walking over to you, lifting you onto the counter and kissing you hard, sliding down those shorts and having you just in his shirt.

“Luca? Luca, are you okay?” He snapped back to Earth realising you were looking at him “you kinda zoned out”

“Uh yeah, rent by the 5th, utilities on the 2nd” he repeats, waving his hand.

“Other way round, you dope” you laughed. “Come here and help me anyway” You wave him over to the kitchen. “I’m making something. Sorry to take work home with you but I need your expertise!”

“Branching out from the air fryer?” he raises an eyebrow and you laugh

“What! it’s quick!” You protested in defence.

He smiled in agreement “You got a point. Come on now what do you need help with?”

You nodded towards some peaches “Can you dice those whilst I fix this dough out?”

Luca agreed and began dicing but he couldn’t help his eyes, drift back you for a few moments every so often. He watched as you attempted to knead the dough but couldn’t quite get the pressure right and struggled to push down owing to the angles.

“No, like this. The angles better if you…” Luca put down the knife, peaches sliced and diced to perfection. “Here I’ll show you”

He moved around the counter and put an arm either side of you, his hands on top of yours, pressing yours moulding the dough, as you let him lead, relaxing. He began holding your hands with his so he could knead whilst showing you. He tried to resist the urge to press into you, to hold you tight against him.

“Like this, see” he said quietly and you nodded, watching his hands and yours under them as he moved effortlessly.

“Yes, chef” you jokingly quipped and Luca had to bite his lip to stop him dropping to your neck.

It wasn’t quite what he’d like to be doing right now but it settled something else for him. So much so that maybe it was even preferable. This almost quietly domestic, almost coupley activity.

When the dough was done, he reluctantly stepped back instantly missing the contact with you, as he watched you line the dish with the dough and peaches and slide it into the oven.

“Thanks Luca” you grinned at him.

“Anytime.” Was about all he could manage and he meant it, that two minutes set his stomach alight more than anything he could remember.

You ate it together on the small balcony later that evening and as you’d asked him how it felt to finally get everything he wanted; job as head pastry chef at a Michelin restaurant and beautiful place to call home in a gorgeous city. He had to hold himself back from saying

How can I have everything I want but I don’t have you. Not in the way I want you.

———————————————————————————

CARMY

NEW YORK

“How’s Eleven Madison Park.” You asked him. He’d started a few months ago and told you to come visit when you were next in New York. Of course you’d accepted.

The head chef hates me. And not just from a cooking point of view. He actively hates me. I throw up every day before work and usually have a panic attack in the walk-in at least twice a week, he gets weirdly personal, he thinks I’m shit, told me to die yesterday. Carmy thought but hesitated, reluctant to dump his stresses out there in the open incase you thought he was overreacting.

“It’s good, but erm, I mean it’s…a lot, the head chef he’s…”

“A dick?” You suggested recognising the ‘I hate my boss’ look on his face.

Carmy looked a little startled and then he let out a breathy laugh. “He’s one of the best chefs in the world…but yeah…he’s an ass…” he stopped

“What does he say to you?” You asked, carefully.

Carmy didn’t want to say it out loud, saying it out loud felt like it would give more weight to the words and some deep paranoid part of him worried you’d agree or even worse that you’d realise and think ‘he’s got a point, you are worthless and insecure and too slow and pathetic’

“Yknow…just always on me…” his voice was quiet.

He felt the twitch in his leg and ran a hand over his mouth biting on his knuckle for a few seconds, trying to distract himself but all he could hear was his voice in his head.

“Carmy?” You noticed the furrow in his brow and his leg bouncing and his hands against his mouth “You ‘kay?”

When he didn’t respond, you continued, concerned but careful. “Carmy, babe, can you look at me? That’s all I need you to do,”

It was a struggle as he rose his head, forced his eyes open and locked his wide eyed stare onto yours. You smiled gently and exhaled, gesturing for him to follow.

He did and you did this a few more times, talking him through breathing a few more times.

‘Well done fucko, she definitely thinks you’re crazy now’

But your expression didn’t suggest that at all. The opposite. Your look was one of understanding, of compassion and kindness.

“I find this helps.” You lifted your fingers to your own neck where it joined with your shoulder, the clavicle just below, you pressed down in a massaging motion.

“Can I touch you?” You ask and Carmen swore he short circuited but instead he just nodded and hoped it wasn’t too needy, too quick that he responded to you asking to touch him.

With his permission, you put your hand on him, a copy of your own. “Like this.” your hand was on his chest right over his clavicle, circling my gently “Focus on my voice”

You continued to talk to him until he held his heart rate calm and whispered out a ‘thank you’

“Glad I can help” Before you removed your hand from his chest, your fingers brushed the gold chain he always wore, you looped it out from under his shirt. “I like this.”

“Thank you.” He said again, trying to focus on the words and not the soft touch “had it since I can remember.”

“There’s another pressure point…” you said, and took his hand and gently pressed between his thumb and finger, “Just here….”

Your hand paused as the other side skirted his palm and you froze, turning it over and seeing a partially healed burn, still red and sore. “Ouch.”

“Occupational hazard” he said with a wry smile. “It’s fine now, was worse a few days ago” he hummed

“Lemme clean it properly for you. I see plenty of utensil related injuries. My best friend is a chef too, remember. Dont want you to make it worse…”

Of course, fucking Luca. Handsome and a nice guy. What a prick.

He was pretty silent as he you cleaned it for him then you’d insisted on a cream, tracing the cut gently once you’d done “There we go, good as new”

“I like you being here.” He squeezed your hand in a moment of bravery “it’s quieter”

A laugh escaped your lips “No ones ever thought of me as quiet but I’m glad I can help.” You gave him such a lovely, soft smile that he couldn’t help but fall in love with you again.

“I mean in my head.” He said with a laugh “you, uh, y’make it quiet in my head”

Its like you turn down the volume in my head and up the warm brightness, I love you. No one has ever been like this with me. I think I’d fall apart without you. I love you.

You squeezed his hand gently “I’m glad I can do that for you” and he could have sworn he felt it in his chest.

———————————————————————————

LUCA

COPENHAGEN

Luca was barely able to keep the grin off his face. He’d been working on a special dessert just for you, going in early, finishing late, all to perfect this.

The thinnest wafer with a soft caramel creme scooped over centre, topped with a milk chocolate dome. It was a fine dining version of a long since discontinued chocolate bar that you’d loved and he could hear you approach the restaurant kitchen in perfect time.

“Hey! You ready to take off? Film starts in half an hour?”

“Here…I…” He carefully lifted the lid from the plate. “I made something for you!”

“Oh my god this looks amazing!” You stared putting down your bag, as Luca prodded the pouring chocolate towards you. You picked it up and he watched your face completely light up as you poured to reveal the concoction under it.

“Wow…this is so cool!…wait…Is this…” Your eyes lit up when you clocked what had inspired the assembled plate in front of you. “No way! Luca, how did you do this?”

His hands ran through his waves a few times and he crossed muscular arms over his large chest.

“I made it.” He said as if it was a love confession “for you.”

“Oh my god. Okay, I’m going to need you to walk me through it!? This has to be my favourite thing you’ve ever made and I haven’t even tried it yet! What even made you think of this? this is so cool”

Luca grinned and it was the same wicked smile he used to give you when you were younger and he was up to something.

‘Because I love you and you miss it and you look for it in every food store in every country we go to. You think I don’t see you looking but I do. If they won’t bring it back and make you happy, I’ll bring it back for you. Sorry it took so long. I wanted it to be perfect because you’re perfect. I love you’

“You wanna know how I made it?”

Luca gave you that look. He loved it when you asked about his process, you always did but this, the chance to gush about how he created something for you? He could do this all day.

“Course I do!” You spooned a large amount into your mouth and couldn’t stop the sound that escaped your mouth. “Fuck, this is insane. It’s perfect, Luca, oh my god”

“So to get the wafers right, you have to make sure it’s smooth wheat flour, see.” he used a fork to point at the rippled wafer in the dessert, pointing out the waves he’d folded the wafer into. “And I had to match the water at exactly the right about, increase or decrease based on the soaking characteristics of the flour. Took me a couple of gos…to get it exactly like it used to be…first couple it was too dense, the consistency was all off, after that it wasn’t thick enough and would break when I tried to roll it.”

You were looking at him like you were interested as you helped yourself to more.

“And you’re going off memory? For the consistency?” It was impressive being that the bar had been discontinued for about ten years.

Luca nodded, spurred on by how impressed you sounded “yeah I remember them. Super soft, so thin, folded over but with space between each wave…have to do it perfectly or it breaks when you roll it. It’s got to be feather soft.”

“You are such a nerd.” You said, but your eyes were soft and you were smiling at him softly “Go on…” you prompted

He shot a glance up to see you watching as if you couldn’t take your eyes off him, hanging on every word, he often worried he was being a geek or boring when he did this but you looked so engaged.

Luca was grateful you followed that with “how did you make the rest” because if you hadn’t the ‘it’s no problem, I’d give you anything. I love you so much I created this because you miss it.’ was sitting at the back of his throat.’

“The creme caramel was a little bit trickier than your standard, see it’s not got the regular consistency, it’s more dense and it’s closer to a creme than actual caramel.” He took a small scoop with a teaspoon and smeared it across an edge of a plate so you could see it spread thinly, smooth and creamy. “It’s all in the texture. The chocolate is all about the tempering… I wanted the dome to reveal it perfectly no matter where you started your pour, so I made twenty batches and practised so the chocolate would melt and reveal like a curtain pull back rather than just caving in… hold on,”

He got up, left the table and came back with two batches of domes and demonstrated for you, showing you on how the remaining earlier batches, it caved in but on the newer batches the melt was almost like a gravity defying curtain pull up.

Engrossed you watched like it was a magic trick.

“Luca this is…one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for me.” You said softly “Thank you so much.”

“Does it taste like it did?” He asked the important question.

“You know.” You tapped the fork off the plate “Usually whenever they bring something back, it’s never as good. This…” you ate some more “is so incredible. It’s better. You are a genius! Who else can make desserts based on discontinued chocolate bars from memory alone! You’re so talented Luca, no one deserves this more than you.”

“I wouldn’t be where I am without you, you believed in me even when I didn’t believe in myself”

“It’s easy to believe in you when you’re so clearly talented. Is this going on the menu?”

Luca nodded his head “It was meant to be just for you but I think I might…but I’ll still make it for you anytime you ever want it, maybe I’ll call it ‘The [Name]’,”

The smile you gave him was one he’d have given anything to see forever.

———————————————————————————

CARMY

NEW YORK

“Are you fucking kidding me? You think by the time the flight takes off and lands it’d be defrosted.”

You were staring at the departure board at JFK airport, your oversized luggage beside you as you drummed your fingers off the handle- DELAYED- AWAIT FURTHER ANNOUNCEMENT written next to your flight.

Carmy was all too aware of what the snow storm on both sides of the Atlantic meant as he stood beside you wondering if he thought it was wrong of him for hoping the snowstorm engulfing the airport was long lasting enough to ground your flight. He knew his own flight would be delayed too.

‘You’re a selfish mother fucker, wanting her flight grounded, She’ll easily go off and check into some fancy hotel and you’ll be alone and it’ll be what you deserve’

‘Attention all passengers- We regret to inform you flight DAT150846 to Copenhagen is cancelled. Please see our customer relations desk for further communications.’

“Fuck” you whistled and you started typing on your phone, no doubt sourcing alternatives.

“I mean I can get to Esbjerg from Newark but my flight won’t leave until tomorrow and there’s always the risk of the trains being cancelled so that’s one of a hell of an Uber. Which means I’ll get in…” you trailed off, as you attempted to work out the time difference.

‘Don’t go’ he wanted to say. He opened his mouth to say…something, anything but was cut off by the tannoy.

“Further announcement to all passengers travelling on the flight AA113717 to Chicago. This flight has now been cancelled. Please see our customer relations desk for more information.

“Shit that’s your flight, Carmy, they’re both cancelled” the second announcement interrupted your counting. You locked your phone as if it was his announcement and not yours that made your mind up and looked at him.

‘Good’ he thinks back to the Christmases of past, screaming, tension, arguments and yelling, hanging anxiety waiting for all of the above. The mental image of Donna, his mother, locked in her own car, which she’d plowed through the front of the family home a few years back, he thought of the Christmas he worked, where his executive chef chewed him out for…fuck knows, sitting there taking personal jibes after personal jibes, and thought ‘I’d rather spend it with you’

Subconsciously he straightens up, realising he probably should say something.

“It’s okay…I uh, don’t mind, Christmases my way can be…a lot” he shrugged and you understood.

Carmy had, in enough words for you to understand explained that his family, especially around Christmas, were in the most tactful wording; difficult. He didn’t mention them often, you knew he didn’t like taking about them but you knew enough to know it wasn’t usually a fun Christmas for him.

“This might be so weird, I know you’ve got your cousin in the city who you’re probably having dinner with but do you… maybe want to come to the air BnB I’m renting for Christmas. Not expecting you to cook off the clock, we can order in?”

“Michelle left a few days ago.” He said, referring to his cousin leaving for Chicago before the storm blew in, instead of ‘Yes, I’d love that. I’d rather be with you anyway’. Kicking himself internally, he took a breath “I mean…not that changes…” he brought his hand through his wavy hair before he took a breaths

“I’d like that. That sounds…great.”

****

You’d done the best you could, spending the dying hours of Christmas Eve decorating the Air BnB. Carmy had arrived early with a take out breakfast from a deli you loved and you’d spent the morning eating.

Wanting Carmy to open his present first, you passed it over and watched him unwrap it and the realisation slowly settle

“Is this?”

You nodded “Uh-huh.”

Carmy unpacked it from the wrapping and held it against himself. ‘We stopped for less than ten seconds’ he thought to himself as he unfolded the jacket.

“How did you know?” His blue eyes met yours, a curious expression on his face.

“I saw you looking. Remember a few months ago?” The way you said it is was as if it was obvious.

He’d never felt important enough for his sideways glances, one off comments and quick observations to be picked up on. For you to pick up on it…it made him feel special, loved even.

She does not love you, motherfucker. You’re delusional.

It was on one occasion when you’d wandered through the city together in fall. It was in the window of a vintage shop. He’d commented on it, off-hand, that he’d always liked a jacket like that. You’d tried to talk him in to going in and trying it on. It looked like it would be his size but he’d brushed it off in a ‘don’t matter’ type way.

“Yeah I went back that afternoon. Try it on! We can go for a Christmas walk later. Maybe in the park? I had it dry cleaned too”

Carmy didn’t say much for fear you’d think he was crazy or overreacting “Thank you”

You nodded “And I’ve ordered you a bookshelf, it’s only an Ikea one but your cook books are on the floor. Trust me, you’ll thank me.” you noted and suddenly Carmy felt himself relax again and laugh as he passed you over your present for fear he might actually cry from how lovely you were if things didn’t move on.

“Is this the soundtrack?”

You asked as you immediately unwrapped the vinyl, slid it out, squealing when you saw the limited run pressing. It was from one of your favourite 80s movies. “This is amazing, the pressing is beautiful! Thank you.”

“Yeah I watched it….Good movie. I, um, found it in a second hand store. figured you’d…like it.” He averted his eyes from yours, shyly. He left out that it was an online store and he’d spent four hours in an auction before just emailing the seller privately and telling him he’d double whatever the other guy was offering.

“You watched something else other than the cooking channel?” You joked in return, sensing he felt a little awkward about it and wanting to lighten the mood.

“Yeah well…” he looked down and back up, hands through his hair again. “I…wanted to do something nice cause…you’re always…you’re good to me”

Your eyes didn’t leave him for a second.

She’s just grateful. She’s just your friend.

“Nothing less than what you deserve…but thank you. Merry Christmas, Carmy” You leant in and kissed his cheek, only an inch or so from where he wished you’d kiss him.

After you finished your deli breakfast, you’d go for the promised walk in the park, and Carmy wondered if in some other universe, you were doing the same thing but hand in hand rather than side by side. You walked longer than you’d planned and he found himself talking more about that Christmas. Of course you were understanding, non-judgemental and Carmy opened up to you more than he’d ever opened up to anyone; about how he chased a culinary career after Mikey refused to let him work in the family restaurant, the constant panic attacks he had over the current restaurant he worked at and the retaining of three stars that the Head Chef had still found fault with him over and about how sometimes he missed Copenhagen and longed for those days on the houseboat with an imaginary cat and as he usually did with you, he felt lighter.

When you returned back, you collapsed onto the sofa, warm despite the cold air and gestured for him to sit with you

“Put it on one of those cooking shows and tell me how you’d make it better”

You tossed him the remote.

Without saying anything, he turned it on, sat beside you and listened to the sounds of the contestants completing a Christmas Dinner challenge filled the air.

To himself, Carmy wondered if this was the best Christmas he’d had in years, maybe in his adult life.

He knew the answer already.

———————————————————————————

BOTH

It had been several weeks since you’d seen either of them. Luca, he was now back in Copenhagen and Carmen had left for Chicago, having inherited his brothers restaurant, following his suicide.

God, Mikey.

You’d spent four days with Carmy in the immediate aftermath, mostly in silence, making sure he took care of himself. Occasionally he’d share something about Mikey which surprised him more than it surprised you. When it had come to it, you’d asked him if he wanted you to go to the funeral with him as support but he’d refused.

‘Don’t wanna put you through my fucking family’ he’d said. You knew it was an excuse but now was not the time to push.

He’d left for Chicago but told you three days later, he didn’t go in, expecting you to tell him he was pathetic, cruel even, but you’d asked why and then, as you always did, just listened.

****

You’d been in touch with them both over FaceTimes and texts like any other time but this felt different.

Carmy, you’d call when he was on random lunch breaks scattered through the day whenever he had the chance. By the time, his shift was over, he’d be too tired and collapse so you scheduled them as you could. You knew he was trying to work on his late brothers restaurant but knew it was shaping up to be a huge task. He’d been going to the Al-Anon meetings and had been trying but it was you who helped most even when you weren’t there.

He thought about you, when he was anxious about the restaurant, stressed about everything and when he couldn’t cope with thinking about how fucked it was that Mikey, who wouldn’t let him work in his restaurant, had fucking left it to him.

Carmy knew he had to tell you how he felt, maybe he could ask you to come out and tell you how he felt. He opened his phone, typed out a message to you and hit send and then promptly locked his phone in his locker and unsuccessfully tried not to think about it.

****

Luca you’d call at night. It reminded you of when you were both kids and you’d stay up late talking on the phone, whispering and giggling until your parents would tell you to get off the phone. You still made him laugh now as you’d relay some horrible mistranslation at work and try to make him guess what it said and what was meant.

God he missed you, every little thing about you. All he could think, despite having his dream job and living in a beautiful city was how he wanted you.

You were the one consistent relationship he had. Other people had come and gone but you’d been there since the beginning, seen him at his best, his worst and everything inbetween and he didn’t think he could have done it without you. He couldn’t lose you.

Luca unlocked his phone, wrote a message to you and clicked it shut before the read receipt could come up.

———————————————————————————

DECISION TIME

Messages (2)

Luca - “Please come back to Copenhagen, I’m going crazy. It’s not the same without you”

Carmy - “Hey, do you maybe wanna come out to Chicago again? Wanna see you soon?”

“That the two guys that are in love with you?” Your friend said “Right on time.”

You’d just been discussing your relationship with both of them and she’d been so insistent they were both in love with you. A part of you knew but didn’t want to acknowledge it.

“Let’s see your boyfriends.” Your friend pushed

“They’re not my boyfriends” You protested.

“Okay fine. Please let me see the two men competing for you.”

“Fucking hell, they’re not competing for me” Your eyes rolled, as you chucked your unlocked phone at her. “You make it sound like I’m… Bridget Jones or Bella Swan or something”

“I mean… you kinda are, honey.” she flicked through your phone finding a picture of Luca. “Wait. THATS Luca, your school friend Luca? When did that happen?“ She zoomed in “When did he get hot? -And tall! What is he now like…6’3”?”

“Of course it’s the same Luca.” You muttered. “You think I’ve been travelling about with some other Luca?”

“Show me the other guy!” She said excitedly and you rolled your eyes playfully, she was like a teenager sometimes.

“Three photos down”

“Holy shit, he’s got gorgeous eyes.” She noted looking at a photo you’d taken with Carmy “imagine those big baby blues being hard to say no to…and nice biceps too… I bet he could bench press you.” She comments casually and nudges you. “Okay so they’re both hot, so my plan of go for the hot one is out of the question.” She cocked her head.

“That’s not helpful. I don’t know what to do, they’re both great, amazing guys.”

“Which one do you want to bang…” she looked at you “most. Like if you could only sleep with one of them, which one.”

“Really, again, not helpful.”you rolled your eyes and shoved her.

“Okay in all seriousness, put everything out of your mind,” she shushed you before you could protest. “You know who you want, its obvious, just admit it to yourself and go be with him”

You nodded. She was right. She always was

“I need you to drive me the airport.”

———————————————————————————

Choose: LUCA

Your friend grinned at you, as you tapped your card on the machine having bought a ticket on the next flight out and watched as the airport worker wrapped a luggage tag around yours, sending your suitcase off.

“I knew it.” She shook her head “I mean I’m one for a slow burn romance you know me. “But years?”

One of her eyebrows raised “I would say text me when you land but you’ll probably be too busy…” she sighed and gave you a loaded look “God, you’re so lucky…”

“Fuck off” you gave her a shove and then pulling her back for a hug you nodded. “I’ll text you in a few days.”

You sent a text to Luca- “I know, I miss you… you’ll see me soon.” and then a picture of your passport.

****

There he was waiting for you as you arrived. You hadn’t expected it but of course he had.

You couldn’t stop yourself from running over to him and he, without care that you were at the arrivals gate, in an international airport, wrapped his arms around you, leant down, tilted your head up and gave you a long, lingering kiss that was years of ‘I love yous’, years of kisses, years of yearning, years of shared jokes and memories and years of being just you and Luca wrapped up in one kiss.

He could feel his heart beating like it might explode at any minute. He’d resolved himself to just fucking kiss you the next time he saw you. Your response to his message plus how you’d ran to him had confirmed in that very moment that he had to. And here you were, kissing him back.

“I love you.” He said against your mouth, instead of a hello, words whispered so only you could hear them. “I love you. I should have told you sooner. I love you.”

You let go of your case, moving your hand to toy with the hair at the back of his neck, standing on tip-toes to close the gap in height.

“Hi…I love you” you whispered, laughing as he placed his forehead on yours “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“Years, give or take,” Luca gave you an honest look that made you jokingly roll your eyes.

“I meant at the airport.”

He laughed. “Went it quick when I was trying to convince myself that I’d gotten the right idea from your text”

An eyebrow raise from you told him all he needed to know and he kissed you once again

“Definitely no wrong idea. Why do you think I got on the first flight out”

You said breathlessly against his lips before pulling him down for another kiss. His hair was ever so slightly longer, pushed back with a black hairband. He’d worn it like that the first time you’d gone to Chicago with him, he’d left the hairband in after a shift once and you’d commented on how much it suited him.

“I love you so much.” You said to him againz

Realising a large group of tourists had now begun to stare, you separated. Awkwardly he held up a hand and muttered something to them with a wave causing you to burst into laughter.

“Did you just say ‘Welcome to Copenhagen I hope you enjoy your stay’ to the nice group of tourists?”

“How did you know which flight I’d be on?” You said linking your fingers with Luca’s as he picked up your suitcase in the other arm and began walking. It felt so natural to be holding his hand after all this time.

“You always like the mid-morning flight. Remember I booked us on the six am to Venice and I thought you were going to push me out the plane”

You laughed so loudly the large group looked back around causing it to be your turn to hold your hand up in apology.

“Yeah I might have done if you weren’t carrying the passports. Now I think I’m ready for you to take me home” you leant into his side.

****

“Fucking hell.” You whispered half to him, half to yourself. “Luca, that was…”

Any worry about crossing that line was gone, it had been gone when he’d picked you up with one arm, as you entered the place you’d shared in Nyhavn. Mouths mashing together, his teeth pulling on your lip, a whisper ask of ‘are you sure’ as he slid his hand under your shirt, you answering him by sucking on his neck as he held you against him, your legs around his waist

The sudden romantic moment became funny when he’d paused in the hallway and asked “My room or yours?” but you’d never have it any other way.

Luca had been gentle at first, careful. Took his time with you. Laid you down and finished you off with his hands and his mouth, and you were back flat against the mattress, aching for him to fill you. So had reached up and cupped his face, locking your ankles at the base of his back and told him you needed him desperately, that you wouldn’t break. Luca had moaned into you at your encouragement which had only made you ache more. And after he’d let the years of want lead and take over, taking you hard and fast, giving you the best night you’d ever had and drawing another climax from you until you dropped back down on the bed back splayed and hips arched for him to finish deep inside you.

**

“I know. Been thinking about us doing that for a while now…You okay?” He linked your hand with his, without looking. He was still over you, caging you against him.

“You thought about that?” You gently played with his hair.

“All the time” he said casually. “Both that and this”

He was resting on your chest now, planting small kisses across your collarbone, gentle and loving. You felt yourself flush both at the casual sexiness of his statement followed by how sweetly he checked in.

“Luca, talking like that makes me want you again.”

Luca grinned with a sly look on his face “You can have me whenever you like.” He rubbed your hip and squeezed, a silent push to answer the ‘you okay?’

“I’m better than okay.” You ran a hand through his hair playing with the soft waves “are you?”

“Just got all I wanted.” Another kiss to your lips, slowly and sweetly. “I’m on cloud fucking nine”

“It was killing me.” He said quietly after a few moments, drawing patterns over your skin making goosebumps break out “…I know I had no right to be jealous, we weren’t together, I think to me, it felt like we were,”

A small sigh escaped his lips, the breath fluttering against your skin. He’d had a point. Looking back, it had sometimes felt like you were together.

“I saved the time difference in my phone and drove myself crazy when it was night over there…I convinced myself you two were…” he stopped.

“Luca, I promise you nothing ever happened, baby, he’s my friend…but you’re everything to me.”

He lifted his head up to look at you “Good” he said before kissing you on the lips, spare hand coming up to cup your cheek. “You’re the love of my life, you know,” he kissed you again “all this…wouldn’t be the same without you,”

“You’d still have made it…” you kissed him

“Maybe.” Luca kissed you again “but it wouldn’t be the same without you. You’ve seen me at my worst, at my best…and yet you’re still here” he whispered into your neck.

“Always gonna be here babe, it’s you and me,” you traced hands down over his chest.

“You’re the love of my life, darling. You always have been” Luca looked at you with a gaze so full of love it made your heart ache.

“And you mine” you pushed your hands into his hair and placed open mouth kisses against his mouth. “You’re so perfect Luca. So, so perfect”

*

The next morning toys wrote him a new message ‘Jeg elsker dig’ the day after which he stuck just above his work station. One you wish you’d written for him all those years ago. “I love you”

A part of you always knew you did. From when you were teenage best friends, to now, you loved him. Being with Luca now after all this time, was like finally seeing clearly.

You’d make up for all the lost time.

———————————————————————————

Choose: CARMY

You tapped to send a heart over the message Carmy had sent you, knowing he’d be eating himself up if you didn’t reply

“Miss you, Carm…I’ll see you soon I promise” You texted back, hoping he was working and it would be enough to stop him going crazy until you landed.

Your friend walked you to security and squeezed your hand. “I knew you liked him…every time you spoke about him, you got all…” she jokes “I’ve never seen you like that.” She said as she hugged you goodbye “Go get your man!”

****

You hadn’t told him you were coming, wanting to surprise him. He’d given you the address of the restaurant and now as you stood outside the door, you exhaled, taking a breath before you entered.

A pretty blonde woman smiled at you as you did

“Hi! I’m looking for Carmen Berzatto.” You said returning her polite smile

“Are you [Name?] I’m Natalie. I’m Carmy’s sister”

That surprised you “He mentioned me?”

“I got it out of him eventually. You know what he’s like” She then walked to the door leading to the kitchen and stuck her head through “Carmy. You’ve got a visitor”

“If it’s the butter delivery, jus’ sign for it, Sugar, ok?” He sounded frazzled despite it being only the morning.

“It’s not the butter delivery! It’s your girl.” She said clearly not in the mood for messing around.

There was all of a sudden a flurry of voices.

“A girl? For Carmy?” You heard a mans surprise.

“Is it the girl on his phone.” A woman asked

“Jeff’s got a girl?” another woman spoke.

“Let me see.” There was shuffling around and then another man spoke “How the fucks he done that?”

“Cousin, gimme the fuckin’ phone.” You couldn’t help but smile as you heard him, hearing him in person made your heart swell. “How’d you get my password”

“Your passwords 1111, Carmen.”

“I’d say it’s not always this chaotic…” Natalie started turning back to you “but it is.”

Before you could respond you were cut off him, your Carmy, emerging from the doorway. He looked so gorgeous.

Wavy hair that he’d clearly been running his hands through, big blue eyes, strong arms under one of those white shirts and little gold chain peeking out.

“Sugar- what is the…” Carmy stopped seeing you.

“Hi.” His face softened within a second of seeing you although the fear of rejection still lingered in his mind. Why were you here?

He turned back to shout into the kitchen “Alright…gimme, gimme like five minutes okay?” Carmy ushered his sister into the kitchen so you could speak freely

“Why didnt you call me? I’d have picked you up at the airport.” he ran a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry…I wanted to surprise you” you gave him a small smile “Carmy” you spoke as if you know exactly what’s on his mind “I want this…I wanna be with you, like properly be with you.” You paused “And I think you want that too”

Carmy could barely believe it, you in his restaurant, in his home city, surprising him and telling him you wanted to be with him? “Course I do.” He answered quickly “Fuck was I obvious?”

“Being that it took me this long to realise it, I don’t think so.”

“S’alright, I just feel like I’ve gone crazy” Carmen choked out a laugh, still overcome with emotion that you were here. “I thought…”

‘I thought by ‘see you soon’ you meant that in weeks or months from now, you’d visit. I thought you’d go to Luca, your gorgeous, tall, charming childhood friend in one of the most beautiful cities in the world who has it all together. Not me, the fucking colossal fuck up. Surely he’d be your first choice’

His hand ran through his hair again and came to rest over his lips, expecting you to say what was I thinking I’ve changed my mind, see ya.

You took his hand and let him link his fingers with yours, knowing he had a habit of fidgeting with his hands when he was nervous.

“Carmy, I’m serious, this is me choosing you. Over anything, anyone else”

“How the fuck do you do that.” He blinked “Sometimes I feel like…like you’re in my head, or somethin’”

He liked it, he didn’t feel like his heart was going beat out of his chest around you. He could actually breathe and think with you around. Seeing you, here, in his home city, with him…he felt at ease for once, all the worries, all the stress he carried around, felt lighter. It was like you, just by being you, could turn down the sound in his head.

“Cause I know you.” You smiled softly “And I wanna make you happy. You gonna let me make you happy babe?”

He didn’t know how to finish the sentence but with the reassurance, the knowing that you’d wanted him, that you’d chosen him, he felt a surge of confidence and he cupped your face with both hands before he dropped one to your waist holding you against him and the other moved back through your hair pulling your lips to his, connecting the two of you in a passionate, messy kiss. You could feel his taut muscles, toned and firm under his shirt and holding you tight to him easily.

He’d make his excuses and finish early. Richie absolutely revelled in making fun of him for leaving to go get some, telling him maybe it’ll make him less pissy and Sugar was just happy to see Carmy happy again, she’d worried about him but the moment he’d laid eyes on you was the first time she’d seen him smile in weeks.

****

“So fuckin’ amazing.” He said breathlessly, whispering kisses against your neck later that evening “didn’t hurt you did I?” He met your eyes instantly concerned.

“No baby, I loved it” you laughed a little, you were still straddling him, legs either side of him, catching your breath as you played with his wavy hair and planted little kisses on him. “You’re the amazing one, so good baby”

Carmy had barely been able to keep his hands off you since you arrived back at his.

He’d been straight over to you, kissing you, sliding his hands up under your shirt, like he thought you’d disappear or like he wanted to touch you as much as he could incase you changed your mind.

You’d returned his kisses with equal intensity, until you’d ended up in a tangle on the couch. both your shirts discarded and jeans half unbuttoned, with your hands half down each others, touching each other, taking turns drawing moans from the other.

“Just want you” you whispered against his ear. “Only you, Carmy”

You shifted up so had your legs either side of him straddling his waist, when you could feel him under your own heat, hard against you and ground your hips into him, telling him how much you needed him.

He couldn’t wait any longer and shuffled off his jeans and yours, pulling you down to straddle him. After a few more, rotations of your hips, you slid down on to him, biting his shoulder as he stretched you. You went slow at first, teasing him and savouring the sounds he made, with every rotation of your hips. After a few blissful moments, Carmy’s hands found your hips and after a careful look for approval from him, he began moving you up and down at a fast pace, drawing cries of pleasure from you until he came deep inside you after you’d reached your high.

****

“Don’t move yet.” He whispered quietly as if admitting the need for closeness with you would make you disappear, as his hands went to your hips, holding them flush against his own. Despite the firmness of the words, there was still some vulnerability there.

“I’m not going anywhere, you wanna stay like this we can stay like this,” you rubbed your hands over his broad shoulders, still unable to get over how toned his body is.

He rested his head on your shoulder, kissing at your collarbone. “I’m so fuckin’…” he paused and wondered if it was inappropriate to tell someone youre in love them in the immediate aftermath of sex. He wouldn’t know, you’re the first person he’s said it to but he couldn’t stop himself. “I’m fuckin’ in love with you.” He said into your neck.

“Carmen.” You said, the use of his full name making his gaze shoot up to your eyes. For a second he wondered if he’d done something wrong. He was staring at you, those big blue eyes you loved so much, looking at you with pure love.

“Hey…it’s okay…” you kissed him softly, slowly, touching his face in the most tender way, thumb gracing over his cheekbone “I love you too.”

As he exhaled, dropping his forehead to yours, he was for the first time in a long time, not just content but happy.

[temis-de-leon]

Shy gn!reader goes to their first date with the Dateables

Characters: Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon and Simeon (x reader, separately)

Masterlist

Part 1 , Part 2 , Demon Brothers version

Romance Anon: Could I request headcanons for Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, and Simeon react to shy gn s/o who asked what he would like to do for their first date because he made them happy by accepting their confession so they want to make him happy?

.

A/N: wrote this while my upstairs neighbors were doing the nasty, so I got a little distracted

.

Diavolo

He feels somewhat conflicted, to say the least. Growing up having everything his way, you could believe this would be easy for him, but you would be wrong. On the contrary, it’s precisely for that reason that he doesn’t want to be the only one organizing the date.

Still, you asked him directly, so he’ll humour you.

He asks Lucifer and Barbatos for ideas and he’s left with even more questions.

He could go big, book Ristorante Six so it’s just the two of you and hire a string quartet to set the mood; or he could literally go home, as they say, ask his butler to cook a special dinner and make the garden look pretty.

There’s also the possibility of going downtown, share some ice cream and take a stroll in the park or the busy avenue.

His indecision doesn’t come from a lack of interest, but rather from cluelessness.

Should he do all of that? Should he make another plan? Something more extravagant? Something tamer?

He’s completely lost. You made him happy when you agreed to go out with him as well, so there’s no need for letting him decide everything, especially for your first date.

He wants to be with you, talk to you, have your whole attention and let you have his as well, so, in the end, he settles for the most private option.

Hopefully, you both will have time for more.

Barbatos

There’s a contradiction in your interests.

He’s immensely glad you’re happy upon going out with him, but what he wants the most is to know you more than anyone else has ever done before.

Therefore, his idea of a perfect first date is to know what’s your ideal first date and to make that a reality.

Do you like big gestures? He can take you to the opera or to a luxurious dinner, maybe even both.

Or perhaps you prefer a more intimate setting, which would be most preferable.

He excels in tea parties after all, something the both of you know, and he can use the opportunity to try new recipes and impress you. Maybe even use the tea blend he prepared just for you, a part of his efforts he deeply hopes you like.

Barbatos is perfectly aware that serving his date as a first date may not seem like something one may do for his own enjoyment, even when you were the one to ask him what to do for your day out together, but you have to understand, MC.

In his eyes, the best path towards your happiness is the one where he is the cause of it.

Solomon

At first he thinks of cooking something for you, maybe ask Luke to bake dessert beforehand, and have dinner at Purgatory Hall, but his roommates’ immediate refusal confuses him.

He just wants to impress you!

But, hey, if his friends insist on changing plans... There’s plenty of other things to do anyways.

Why not get out of the Devildom for starters? A change of scenery sounds like a good idea and it’s not like you’re going to be away for too long. Plus, you can forget the brothers for once and he gets the opportunity of having your sole attention for a whole day.

It’s a win-win situation.

You’re going to be a human couple spending time in the human realm doing human things.

And what’s more human than the sun? The warmth, the light… He could take you to a coastal city and sunbathe in the beach or to a small mountain town and walk through its green pastures.

Do you know how to make flower crowns? You could learn with him!

Take advantage of your human curiosity! What better companion than him?

Sure, the brothers and the royals could sweep you off your feet in many different ways, but if there’s something only he can give you is understanding.

You’re going through so much, learning and improving, saying goodbye to the person you once were, he’s the only one capable of comprehend the change in your humanity.

Trust in him to take the weight off your shoulders.

Simeon

He knows exactly what to do.

While he would love to have a traditional date with you, dining in a nice place before going for a stroll and take you home, he knows Luke wouldn’t understand the concept of a date per se.

And as much as he loves the kid, he wants to be just with you for the night.

So, he does just that. He invites you to go out for the night while Luke is sleeping.

There’s a spot in one of the rooftops of RAD and he has visited it enough times to know it’s the perfect place for your date.

He asks Belphie for help and Diavolo for permission, borrowing books and asking simple questions about the sky, the constellations and the legends behind it.

It’s not about studying as much as possible about the stars to impress you, which he’d prefer happening in a more natural setting, but rather having you discover the wonders that surround you with him.

Just the thought of keeping you close, shielding you from the cold of the night and staring at the dark sky with your fingers tightly intertwined with his, sends an involuntary smile to his face.

He wants to spend time with you, it’s as simple as that, but why not make it even more beautiful?

.

.

[monzabee]

like real people do – cl16 (+18)

masterlist

Summary: The one where you are having sex with your boyfriend, Charles, for the first time but he wants everything to be perfect for you. 

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: smut (i can’t believe this day has arrived), absolute filth towards the end i'm so sorry mom, charles being a romantic dork, insecurities, obsessively planning something for it to only go wrong, cursing, fluff towards the end, google translate French, minors dni!!

Request: “Hi!!! Maybe you could do a first time with Charles Leclerc? Where he is upset because he wants everything to be perfect. And he whispers to her how much he loves her and her body. And maybe a sweet aftercare at the end?Just a suggestion &lt;3 Have a nice day!”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! thank you so much for the feedback and love you’ve left on my last fic! this one was fun to write but please beware that this is my first-time writing smut in my life. thank you anon for the request, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Dating Charles is easy, you think. Not in a bad way, no. But in a way that makes it very easy for you to lost yourself in him and your love for him, which doesn’t make you feel scared whether you guys are moving too fast or too slow. Charles always tells you that you should live your life on your own pace, without any comparison to other people’s –  although he doesn’t seem to practice what he preaches, both figuratively  and literally on the track. 

You love the story of how you two met, and you know he does, too. He brings it up often when the two of you are on a date, sharing the last course of the night, dessert, even though the two of you are probably full and can’t possibly eat anymore. The two of you met almost a year ago, in France actually, after the disaster of a race. Charles was forced by his friends, mainly Pierre, to go out for the night to hopefully have some drinks and let off some steam. You, on the other hand, were on possibly the worst date you could ever remember being on in your entire life. Therefore, being the only two people who are having the worst time in the small bar, you two met on the back patio where you thought you’d be able to get some alone time. Although the two of you don’t hit it off immediately, the only thing you could think about by the end of the night is when you might see the Monegasque with the dimples again. You guys don’t start dating immediately either, no, because Charles insists that it is important for you two to get to know each other as friends first. You agree, mostly because he is right, and also because you are impressed by the fact that he is showing emotional maturity in a way you did not experience in your past relationships before. But it is easy with Charles, even if he has an inhumane work schedule most of the year and your guys’ schedules don’t match up most of the time, you make time for each other. He knows how much your career means to you and you know the same goes for him so the two of you are very careful not to cross any lines. That doesn’t mean that Charles doesn’t spend all of his free time with you, of course.  

Another interesting thing about your relationship is the fact that you two haven’t had sex yet, although you’ve been together for a while. Some people are genuinely shocked to find this little fact out, for example when you told Lily she almost dropped the coffee mug she was carrying, or sometimes Charles’ friends like to make fun of the situation, mostly Pierre (in reality, only Pierre), though it’s all in good fun. You don’t feel weird about the fact that you two haven’t slept together yet, but you ask him whether there’s a certain reason why and Charles’ answer turns you into a sobbing mess in his arms. He explains that while he would love to fuck your brains out – in the most respectful way possible – but he want is to be perfect for your first time. In his mind, he is trying to show you how serious he is about your relationship by slowing down the pace and taking his time, and when he’s finally able to put it in words, they make you tear up in the best way possible. That’s not to say that the two of you didn’t partake in other forms of sexual intimacy per se. For example, there’s that one time where he came into his driver’s room after a particularly adrenaline filled race and dropped to his knees for you – you can still recall the devilish smile on his face and the fact that he never took his eyes off of you, not once. There was the time after the FIA Prize Giving Ceremony, of course, where the two of you managed to sneak out of the ceremony into one of the bathroom stalls and this time you were the one on your knees for him. In conclusion, neither of you feel you’re missing out on anything just because you haven’t had sex yet. 

It’s a couple of months after the last time you brought up the topic of having sex when the two of you stumble onto the topic again. It’s by an accident, really – and not much of a discussion, only a couple of words exchanged between the two of you. The two of you are watching a new movie which finally made its way onto Netflix, and you’re very happy with your place on the couch – squeezed between the cushions with the side of Charles’ body, which is very warm and making you a little sleepy to be honest. However, your sleepy mood is quickly wiped away when you realise the soft moans coming from the TV. You let your eyes take in the scene before you, the actors on the screen not slowing down for a second when you realise Charles’ breathing has gone deeper. He involuntarily tightens his arm around your shoulders, pressing you more into his sides. 

“Charles,” you mumble, bringing your gaze up to him and swallowing a deep breath once his green eyes meet yours. 

“Yes, chérie?” Although the focus on his eyes are on you, you can tell that he is also very much aware of the developing scene on the TV. His eyes widen when he realises what your silent request is and he exhales sharply. “Chérie…” 

You hide your face in his neck at the gentle rejection he offers, leaving soft kisses across the skin left open from the neckline of his hoodie. “Please, mon coeur.” You think your choice of words does it for a second. It usually does it, when you speak French because you don’t do it very often, but one look in his eyes tells you tonight won’t be the night. “But why?” you whine, almost childishly, burying your face deeper in his neck. 

“Because you need perfection, mon amour.” He replies, but there is a strain in his voice due to the tightness in his sweatpants. 

“I don’t need perfection.” You grumble, your sexual tension feeling overwhelming for the moment. 

“Maybe not,” Charles replies, taking a deep breath. “But you deserve it.” 

You inhale deeply at his words too, occupying your hands with the strings of his hoodie. “Soon?” you ask in a hopeful voice. 

He leaves a soft kiss on your hairline with an affirmative hum. “Soon,” he promises. 

It’s a couple of weeks later that incident when you find yourself back in his apartment in Monaco. Due to the flexibility your work provides now that you’re taking on more freelance roles. Charles was worried you took the step because of his own schedule, but you quickly assured him that you were feeling burnt-out because of the 9-to-5 hustle. So when you step in his apartment that evening, you take in the sight with a small smile on your face. 

“Honey, I’m home!” You announce your arrival, presenting the flowers in your hand with a proud expression as you enter the kitchen.

“Chérie!” He welcomes you, walking towards you from behind the counter and engulfing you in one of his bear hugs – which are your favourite, of course. “Welcome home, I’ve missed you.” 

“Well, then maybe you shouldn’t sent me out to get my nails, you silly goose.” You giggle, getting out of his arms and leaving a kiss on his cheek to go find a vase for the bouquet in your hands. 

“I needed time, and you know why.” He crosses his arms in his chest and a small smirk finds a place on his face as he raises his eyebrows. “You bought me flowers?” 

“Well, yes,” You shrug, “everyone deserves flowers, no?” 

“Hm,” he lets out a small hum, and gets behind you while you’re filling up a vase with water. He places his chin on your shoulder as he speaks in a low voice. “I got you flowers as well; you know.” 

“Oh, I know, I saw them on the dining room table.” You smile as you look at the flowers placing them on an empty place on the counter and turning your head back to look at Charles. “I love them, thank you, darling.” 

He kisses your lips softly, “I’m glad you like them.” He perks up when the oven timer indicates that the dinner is ready. So he takes your hand and walks you towards the door, “You go wait in the dining room, I’ll be right over.” 

He comes into the dining room a little while later carrying a pizza presented on a large plate with what you think to be artistically placed basil leaves. You smile widely at him while he puts the plate on the table and serves the two of you. “You cooked me pizza?” You ask, pressing your lips together to prevent you from smiling like a maniac. 

“I know it’s your favourite.” He smiles wildly right back at you, motioning your plate. “You first, I wanna see your reaction.” 

“Okay!” You answer him, picking up the slice and taking a bite out of it. As you start to chew the piece, you widen your eyes and let out a hum to disguise your reaction. Although it takes you a minute or two to swallow the piece in your mouth, his excited eyes never leave yours for a moment. “It’s great! Which recipe did you use, honey?” 

“I’m glad you asked,” he answers you, picking up his own piece, “it’s a recipe I found online.” He bites a mouthful out of the pizza and as he begins to chew, his eyes widen and suddenly he is spitting the food into a napkin as politely as he can. “Jesus, what’s wrong with this thing?” His eyes move towards your face and widens even more. “Chérie, you can’t possibly like this.” 

“What, no!” You say, dragging out the last letter. “It’s great, Charles, really.” You start to take another bite, but he stops you with an incredulous look on his face. 

“Chérie, non! You’re going to give yourself food poisoning!” He shakes his head, and takes out his phone to check the recipe after you ask him once again which recipe he used. “It’s the one from ‘Food Network’. It’s supposed be edible, no?”

“Oh, Charles.” You sigh, softly, looking over the American measurements instead of the European ones. 

His confused eyes find yours. “What?” he asks with a genuine concern. 

“They are in the American form, not the European ones.” You answer, a hand stroking his forearm in attempts to bring him sympathy. 

“Oh my god, I– I’m sorry, chérie.” He sighs, leaning his head back towards the back of the chair and letting out a frustrated groan. “I am stupid.” 

“You are not stupid, Charles.” You assure him, you hand is still on his arm to hopefully convince him that he is not, in fact, stupid. “It’s a common mistake.” 

“But non, it was supposed to be edible!” He points to the dough on your plate frustratedly and adds, “I even got you the wine you liked so we could share it.” 

“You got me wine to share?” You ask him softly. “But you don’t even like wine.” 

His answer is simple. “But you do.” He takes a moment to reflect and then brings his hands up to cover his face. “Oh my god, I forgot to take the wine out of the freezer.” 

“Charles, please,” You try to move his hands from his face, but he stubbornly keeps them there, letting out a groan in the process. “Okay, nope, enough.” You announce, getting up from your chair and try to forcefully pull him out of his chair. 

“No, mon amour, stop.” He argues, but you keep pulling him towards the bedroom with still chanting the words; no and nope.

When you finally get to the bedroom and open the door, you’re quite surprised to find another surprise there. You let your eyes wander through the rose petals and candles in the room – though, yes, it is a bit cheesy, you know the reason he went to this far is only to make you feel special and appreciated. “Charles,” you say his name with softness, and emotion, and (maybe) with tears but your hand in his tightens the moment you lay your eyes on him. “I love you, God, I love you.” 

“I love–” He can’t finish the rest of his sentence because suddenly you pull his face against yours, and press your lips onto his. His hands are quick to find your waist, and pull you against him. His movements are slow as he leads you towards the bed, but he lets you have control over the kiss and tries to match your rhythm as you deepen the kiss. As you get closer to the bed, one of his hands find your ass and when he squeezes the flesh under his hands, he is also quick to swallow your moans in his kiss. 

You let out a protesting hum when he tries to put you on top of the bed, so he slowly pulls away from the kiss and raises his eyebrows questioningly. “No.” You murmur, quickly switching your positions and gently pushing him to sit on the bed. “My turn.” You quickly place yourself to sit on his lap with a playful smile on your face. You let your hands wander across his shirt-clad chest, quickly starting to unbutton it while keeping your eyes on his. He assists you when you try to pull his shirt off of him and sigh dreamily at the sight, and softly pushing him on his shoulder to lie down on the bed. You proceed to drop your head and press kisses to anywhere and everywhere on his skin. You start with his lips, which he tries to deepen but quickly gives up because he understands what you’re trying to do, then his jaw and neck, his chest and eventually through the happy trail which leads your mouth to the destination you were hoping to achieve. Your start to unbutton his pants and try to undo his belt buckle, but he stops your shaky hands to bring you back up despite your protests. 

“No, chérie, not tonight.” Although his tone is firm, you try to get back to your previous position in hopes that we will let you. However, he tightens his hands on your hips to keep you in place as he pulls you close and whispers, “I said no, mauvaise fille.” bad girl. A smirk threatens to etch itself on his face when he hears your soft whine at his attempt to chastise you. He brings one of his hands to rest on the juncture of where your jaw meets your neck and allows his thumb to caress your bottom lip. “You’re going to let me worship you, n'est-ce pas? wont you? Before I fuck you, I mean.” 

Your breath nearly gets stuck in your throat, but you manage to let out a soft, “Charles.” 

“Tell me, mon amour, or I won’t touch you tonight at all.” There is a mischievous look on his face which is laced with months of built-up sexual tension – rather a dangerous combination, you reckon.

“Y-yes.” You breath out. “I will let you.” 

“You will let me do what, my love? Say it in French.” He moves his hand to cover your neck and applies the smallest bit of pressure he knows you like, enough to keep you on your toes but not enough to cut the air completely or leave any bruises. “You know I love it when you speak in French.”

“Je– Charles.” You quickly give up as you try to string the correct words together but his persistent gaze has you trying again and again to find the right ones. “Je te laisserai me toucher.” I will let you touch me. 

The smirk on his face turns wicked as he clicks his tongue. “Ne touche pas, dis-moi le mot juste, chérie.” Not touch, tell me the correct word, darling. “I won’t touch you tonight if you don’t tell me,” he reminds you. 

You let out a whine as you try to move your hips to gain some friction for relief, but his hand, which is still on your hip, stops you from doing so. Moving your hands to slowly hold his wrist, which belongs to the hand currently wrapped around your neck, you look him straight in the eyes with a panic. “Adorer! Je te laisserai m'adorer!” Worship, I will let you worship me!

“Bonne fille,” Good girl, he mumbles getting you out of your dress in no time. But he takes time with your underwear, allowing his fingers to explore as he teases you – no doubt. He slowly lays your body on top of the bed, and moves his body to sit between your parted legs. “Beautiful,” he whispers as he lets his eyes wander through the curves of your body, your chest, and eventually the wet spot between your legs. “Are you wet for me, my love?”

You nod timidly, partly due to the fact that you’re completely naked while he only has his shift off. It’s not that you two haven’t been naked together before, but it feels much more different this time compared to before. “Charles, please.” Your whine is much high in pitch this time, feeling needier as the minutes go by. “Please, do something.” 

“I will, mon chérie, don’t worry.” He moves down on the bed and lowers himself on his knees and pulls your legs over his shoulders. “Just don’t forget to tell me if it gets to much, okay?” 

“Okay– my God, Charles!” You throw your head back as Charles begins his mission – which must be, when looking back, eating you out like a mad man because the second he places his tongue on your slit, he begins to devour you as if he’s been starving for years. As he licks and nips and sucks at you skin, you have no control over the reactions your body supplies him with, which is mostly chanting his name over and over again. And you are pretty sure that he becomes more motivated to make cum every time your voice gets higher both in voice and pitch. You don’t know how long it has been and how many orgasms he’s given you just with his mouth and fingers. Three? Four? Five? You’re not sure – but the one thing you know is that when you’re just about to come again, you weave your hands through his hair and pull hard. In retrospect, it seemed like a good idea, but you come to regret that decision when Charles takes your clit between his lips and sucks just as hard, guiding through a mind-blowing orgasm which leaves you shaking and arching your back against the Monegasque. Just as you thought that would be it, he begins to restart his fingers’ movements, which has you pushing his head off of your pussy in an attempt to stop him. “Charles, I can’t anymore!” 

That seems to do it, because with a feverish look on his face, Charles lifts his head up and holds on to your thighs which are still on the either side of his head. “What’s wrong, mon amour?”

“I can’t – I’m sorry,” you babble through the involuntary tears, mostly due to the force of your orgasm – which does leave him worried but he lets you finish your thoughts before he takes any action. “Please just fuck me.” 

“Shh,” he soothes you, leaving small kisses to your upper thighs and moves himself to hover over your body. “You did so well, bonne fille.” He strokes your hair as he whispers sweet nothings to your ear, helping you to calm down and regulate your breathing before the two of you continue. “Breath, bonne fille, ma bonne fille.”

You listen to him as he gives you instructions, breathing deeper breaths and trying to keep your focus on his eyes while you do so. Your hands grip his biceps tightly when he makes a move to get up, the look in your eyes becoming panicky once again. “Where are you going?” 

His hand continue its movements in your hair as he smiles at you softly. “I’m going to grab a condom, and be right back, okay?” 

“Don’t.” You croak, your throat becoming dry as you keep talking and start blushing akin to a lobster. “I’m on birth control.” 

“Chérie,” Charles starts, “Y/N, we can’t–”

“Please, I just wanna feel you.” The softness of your voice tugs at his heartstrings as you add, “Only if you want to.” 

“Of course, I want to, you silly girl.” Charles assures you quickly and gets out of his trousers and boxers, and positions himself between your legs with the head of his cock pressed to your opening. He moves his eyes from you pussy to your face, locking his gaze with yours as he speaks again, “I’m going to go slow, okay?” He waits for your reaction before starting to move his hips, his cock moving inside you in a slow pace. As he continues the movement of his hips your lips part and a moan resembling his name come out. He stops at a certain point and gives you a moment to adjust, then moves his hips backwards enough that he gets out of you, but he is quick to slip back in and continue his movements up to the point he let you get adjusted to. 

You let out a whine, which prompts him to raise his eyebrows in question, which you reply with a nod of your own. You wrap your legs around his hips, the skin-to-skin contact feeling nice, and push him deeper inside you which results in you actually screaming his name. If you thought feeling him before that moment was pleasurable, felling all of him inside you all at once feels as if you’ve achieved some sort of nirvana. “Deeper, please, plus profonde.”

“I’ve got you, darling.” He manages to get out, moving his hips faster and deeper at the same time and hitting the spot which causes your eyes to roll back to your head every time. “You have no idea how beautiful you look like this, right now. Mon chef-d'œuvre, tout à moi.” My masterpiece, all mine.

With your entire body shaking with the movement of Charles’ hips, you still manage to nod your head. “All yours, Charles.” Your hands squeezing his biceps for support, “I love you, je t'aime tellement.” I love you so much. 

“God, I love you so much.” He lets out a groan, and drops his head to your neck to press kisses and suck your skin between his lips in an urgent need to leave his mark on your body. “Je promets que je t'aimerai pour toujours.” I promise I'll love you forever.

Your hands move to weave through his messy hair, pulling him closer in an attempt to keep him closer to your body – which proves a challenge because the two of you are already wrapped around each other. “I’m close, mon coeur.” 

“I know, sweetheart.” He breathes on your neck, his warm breath making you shiver under the weight of his body. He puts his weight on one of his arms and moves the other one towards your body, this fingers quick to find your clit as he begins to circle it. “Come for me so I can fill you up, hm? You want that, don’t you?” 

You nod your head and let him take you there for the last time that night, your orgasm coming in stronger than the previous ones due to the overstimulation Charles thankfully provided. “I do, I do, I really, really do.” Your legs tighten around his hips and your hands slip down his back as you claw at the skin there while your hips lift off the bed, causing you to arch your body to mold his. 

He only lets himself come when he’s guided you through yours, his fingers slowing down without stopping when he’s emptying himself into you. The moan he gets out, muffled because his head is still buried in your neck, quickly becomes one of your favourite sounds in the world. He holds you close as he slips out of you, the small wince on your face not going unnoticed by him, and he pulls you towards him when he drops next to you on the bed. Charles listens to your breathing for a while, only to find you looking at him with sleep evident in your eyes and a pleased smile on your lips. “Comme c'est joli.” How pretty. He says, “And all mine.” 

“All yours,” you sigh, but your voice coming off sleepy. “I’ve always been all yours.” 

His fingers draw random shapes on the bare skin on your back as he raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Hm, tu sais que c'est vrai.” You know it’s true. You mumble, snuggling closer to the driver wrapped around you. “I love you, mon amour.”

“I love you too, chérie.” He kisses the side of your head. “The next time we do this, I’m making you edible pizza, though.” 

“I don’t need pizza.” You laugh softly, “only you.” 

“Still,” Charles shrugs, “now go to sleep so I can take you out to breakfast tomorrow.” 

[ks-dreams-fantasies]

CLOSER | TRAVIS KELCE

a/n: Two stories in the same day ? Why not. Here's a little fluff about meeting Donna for the first time. Hope you like it 🥰

Warning: None

Words: 822

Pairing: Travis Kelce x Reader

Anon: I have a Travis request where reader meet his parents/family.

CLOSER | TRAVIS KELCE

As the autumn leaves painted the town in shades of gold and crimson, you prepared for a significant moment in your relationship with Travis.

Tonight, you would meet his mother, Donna, a woman he held in the highest regard. The anticipation tingled in the air, mixing with the aroma of roasted vegetables and simmering sauce. You were at Travis’s place, preparing dinner for his mom.

With each slice of the knife and stir of the pot, your thoughts wandered to Travis's stories of his mother. She was his everything - the rock that steadied him through life's turbulent moments, and the guiding light that inspired him to reach for the stars. You wanted to make a good impression, not just for the sake of a dinner, but to show her that you understood and valued the woman who had shaped the incredible man you loved.

You felt hands snaked around your waist and a fresh but musky scent filled your nose, leaning in, Travis’s warmth enveloped you. 

‘’Smells amazing baby’’ he said resting his head on top of yours.

You got interrupted as the doorbell chimed, your heart skipping a beat. Travis released his grip and got to the door, inviting his mom inside. There she stood, a warm smile on her face, exuding a kindness that seemed to radiate from her very being.

"Hello, dear. You must be the lovely Y/N" she said, extending her hand.

"Yes, it's so wonderful to finally meet you," You replied, feeling instantly at ease.

The evening unfolded seamlessly. You guys chatted about family, hobbies, and life in general. Her eyes sparkled with laughter as she shared stories of Travis and Jason's childhood antics.

"Oh, you should've seen him trying to ride that old bicycle!" she chuckled. "He was determined, but it took him a few tumbles to get the hang of it. And don’t even get me started about him wanting to play football and follow in his brother’s footsteps.’’

You couldn't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for the glimpse into his past, a past that had paved the way for your future together.

As you gathered around the table, the spread before you was a feast fit for a queen. The clinking of cutlery and glasses was accompanied by an easy camaraderie.

"Oh, the time he tried to make pancakes by himself! I came home to find flour all over the kitchen." Laughter filled the room as Travis sheepishly admitted to the pancake disaster.

"This meal is exquisite, dear. You're quite the chef."

"Thank you. I wanted to make a special dinner for our first meeting."

"That is very sweet of you. This lasagna is absolutely delicious," Donna exclaimed. "You must share the recipe with me!"

With a smile, you replied, "Of course! I'd be happy to." You looked over to your boyfriend seeing the genuine smile placed on his lips. 

As dessert arrived, Travis's eyes met yours with a silent thank you. He had been nervous about this meeting, anxious for his mother's approval. Seeing her laugh and converse with you, he knew that she was just as pleased with you as he was.

After dessert, you retired to the living room, where the crackling fire cast a cozy glow. 

"Would you like some coffee or tea?" You asked Donna "A cup of tea sounds lovely, thank you."

Wrapped in the warmth of conversation, you felt a sense of belonging that went beyond mere introductions.

"So Y/N, tell me more about your work," she inquired, her eyes filled with genuine interest. She reminded you of your own mother.

You eagerly shared your passions, and she listened with an attentiveness that made you feel truly valued.

As the evening drew to a close, Travis walked his mother to the door, leaving you a moment of quiet reflection.

"Thank you for tonight," she said, her voice warm and genuine. "You make my son so happy, and that's all a mother could ever ask for."

Touched by her words, you smiled. "Thank you for raising such an incredible man. He means the world to me."

With a final hug, she left, leaving behind a newfound sense of connection and acceptance. You watched Travis as he returned, his smile radiant.

"Thank you for being amazing," he murmured, pulling you close. You wrapped your arms around his rib cage, hugging him tight. "Your mom is awesome, Trav. I can see where you get your warmth and kindness."

"She really liked you, and that means the world to me. I'm so lucky to have you in my life." He said kissing the top of your head before leading you to the backyard. 

That night, under a canopy of stars, you sat on the porch swing, wrapped in blankets, hands entwined. As the cool breeze danced around you, you couldn't help but feel immense gratitude for the evening that had brought you and Travis a little closer. 

Taglist : @kkrenae @spencerreidisbootiful @nabiiturner @ilove-tswizzle @legit9thlunaticwarrior @evernova @kelcemenow @bellstwd @my-regrets @green-lxght

[live-love-be-unique]

Put your sweet lips on my lips

Summary: when your dad invites his new boss and his family for dinner you had no idea you’d be spending the evening with your high school crush and sharing a hot encounter in your home library with your parents downstairs.

Parings: Steve Harrington x freader

Warnings: sexual content (18+ minors dni), fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving)

18+ Minors DNI

“Now remember, tonight is a very important night for your father” your mother says, tying a pink ribbon into your hair. She’d chosen everything for you and your dad to wear tonight, you all had to impress “We need to make a good impression” your dad had gotten a promotion and your parents had invited your dad’s new boss and his family for dinner and your mother was obsessed with making sure everything was picture perfect.

“Honey, Where’s my tie?” Your dad’s deep voice sounded down the hallway, as he walked into your room, buttoning his shirt. “Really Richard” your mother huffed as she went to find the tie that she had so carefully laid out for him on their dresser this morning.

“You look beautiful, peanut” he said warmly as you looked over at yourself in the mirror, hands smoothing down over the skirt of the dress your mother had picked out for you to wear tonight.

“Thanks Dad” you smiled as he kissed the top of your head. Your mother walked back into your room, helping your dad put his tie on.

“I bought two bottles of champagne, do you think that will be enough?” Your mother fussed about, going over everything as you and your dad followed her into the living room.

“It will be perfect, Mary” your father soothed, placing a gentle kiss on your mother's temple.

A sharp knock at the door broke the sweet moment. Your parents stood in front of the large mirror by the front door and made sure they looked as polished as possible, your mother smoothing a few invisible flyaways from your hair before your dad opened the front door, a beaming smile gracing his face. “Mr Harrington” he said warmly, shaking the other man’s hand.

Your dad ushered the Harringtons into your home, introducing them to you and your mother “and this must be young Steve?” Your father said, noticing the younger man as he walked through the front door.

If only your teenage self could be here right now, she’d have a fit! Your high school crush Steve Harrington was standing in your living room, shaking hands with your dad and making small talk with your mother. He looked like the kind of boy you would find in a Teen Beat magazine, with his pretty eyes and perfect hair and his easy smile just dripping with charm.

Then Steve turns and smiles at you as he says your name and oh shit, it’s not just a high school crush anymore.

Your mother ushered everyone towards the dining room as dinner was served, she’d spent all day on the perfect dinner party menu of Niçoise salad, steak diane and an amaretto brûlée for dessert.

Your dad was right of course, the night was going off without a hitch, your parents and the Harringtons getting along like a house on fire.

After dinner everyone had made their way to the living room with wines and port to relax, reminiscing about their youths; telling tales of escapades they had gotten up too, you’d stayed behind cleaning up the dinnerware and taking it to the kitchen. As your dad asked Steve his plans for the future you snuck off to your dad’s small office that housed your family’s library of books. That’s where he found you, leaning against shelves flipping through a book.

“So this is where you’re hiding?” Steve says, ditching his sports jacket onto the small desk by the door.

“Dinner parties aren’t really my thing” you chuckled.

“Mine either, too much schmoozing and trying to impress people” he smirks, falling into the large plush armchair, arm draped over the back, “I remember you, from school, you know”

“You do?”

“Sure, you sat up the back of Mrs Potter’s class. You always had your head in a book” Steve said, nodding his head towards the shelves of books that littered the room.

“I didn’t think you’d remember me, I wasn’t exactly memorable”

“Of course I would” he muttered, picking at a thread on one of the cushions. “So, what are you reading?” He gestured to the book in your hands.

Realizing you’d picked up one of your mothers Harlequin romance novels, something about a mountain man and his mail order bride, you tried to hide the cover of the novel against your chest, crossing your arms over it in an effort to avoid further embarrassment.

“Come on” Steve smirked, standing up and strolling closer to you “show me” he’d seen the blush that coloured your cheeks “it’s a dirty book, isn’t it?!”

“It’s not mine” you protested as he grabbed the book from your hands and opened it to the page you were on.

It was now Steve’s turn to blush, the page you were reading was of course one of the more raunchy chapters in the book.

“This is what you like huh? He pushed her against the wall, his large hands gripping her tight as she felt his large…” he read a line from the open page as you reached for the book.

Steve moved to hold the book away from you as he kept reading, he was a full head taller then you so he had no trouble. In the struggle you ended up between Steve and the bookshelf, one of his large warm hands holding your hip tightly as his deep brown eyes bore down on you with intensity.

“Tell me to stop and I will. Just say the word and I’ll walk away” you didn’t say a word, you couldn’t say anything, not with the way Steve was looking at you.

One of Steve’s hands moved to cup your cheek as he leaned in and kissed you. Body pressing against you as he deepened the kiss. His lips combined with his hands traveling all over your body causing all thoughts to leave your head except for one, Steve.

One of his large, warm hands grasps onto your thigh, hoisting it up against his hip as he looks into your eyes, silently questioning if you want to continue. You nod, not trusting your voice.

He slides a hand up underneath your skirt, fingers dancing up along your thighs and he maneuvers he trails his fingers along the lace on the outside of your underwear, teasing you. He finally touches the growing wet spot between your legs and over your underwear and then he dips his fingers inside you causing you to gasp. His lips pressed against the skin of your collarbone while he continues to slide his fingers in and out of you at a torturously slow pace that made you lose your mind.

“Steve?” You gasped as he kissed his way across your face and down your neck. You gripped him tighter as his lips found a particularly sensitive spot at the junction of your neck and shoulder.

“Yeah baby?” He groans against your skin.

“I…I need…” your brain couldn’t form a coherent thought, not with the way Steve’s hands roamed over your body, setting every nerve on fire and not with the way his lips felt against your neck.

“I know, I know, I’ve got you baby”

Then Steve sinks to his knees and gazes up at you with those deep brown eyes, watching your every reaction as he lifts your skirt and bunches it around your waist, he drags your underwear down your legs and Steve groans as his warm hands keep your thighs spread open for him “You’re so pretty, you know that, baby?”

You watch as he licks his lips and stares at your body like he’s about to have the most delicious meal ever, savoring the sight of you like he’s got all day to do it, the raucous laughter of your parents drowned out by your heart beating out of your chest.

“Keep your eyes on me” he breathed and places soft kisses to your hips.“please I need to see you” he teases you with his tongue, moaning at the taste of you, your hands are in his hair holding him against you. You moan his name in a fractured sigh, with your other hand you lace your fingers together with his at your hip. You don't even care that your parents are downstairs, the only thing you can think about is him. and, fuck, it feels so good.

Steve eats you out like he’s a man starved, like he’s drunk on your taste. Threading your fingers through his hair, gripping a little as he moans into you.

“That’s it baby, I need to hear you” oh god, he’s so good at this You think as you arch your back needing to feel him even closer if that was possible.

All at once you feel the familiar knot in your belly tightening and you have to bite your hand to stop from crying out Steve’s name as stars explode behind your eyelids.

Steve places gentle kisses on your thighs as you come down from your impossible high. “Oh my god” you giggled breathlessly as Steve stood up in front of you grinning, eyes darkened with lust.

“I hope that was better than your book” Steve smirked and leaned in for another heated kiss as your parents called for you, the Harringtons were leaving.

“Now remember” Mrs Harrington said to your mother as you and Steve rejoined your parents “dinner is at our house next weekend, and don’t you bring a thing!” The two women laughed as you and Steve shared a look.

Another dinner party, you thought to yourself the perfect opportunity for me to return the favor.

Taglist: @m-blasterrr, @mvnsonslvt, @neymac21174, @maybe-not-this, @seatnights, @wheezyhyperfixates, @grunge-the-freak, @ettadear, @artsyfartsytheaterkid, @lma1986

[cheezeybread]

got a fun little request. picture Yuu doing a taste test for Trey for the next unbirthday party. Only... Floyd hears about it and decides to make it a cooking contest with Yuu as a judge. He wants to impress Yuu and show them he can totally do baked goods just as good as Trey. Azul meanwhile probably sees this as a chance to promote the lounge so dollar signs and promotion for him. up to you who wins the contest.

Hey, hey, let him cook!

-Yuu when Floyd shows up to try and make it a competition

This is all written as platonic, although it'd probably be easy to imagine it as romantic heheh

┍━━━━━»•» 🌺 «•«━┑

"Heeeeey, you don't happen to be craving some extra sweets this week, do ya? :)"

The text from Trey caught you completely off guard, especially since he hadn't texted you in well over two weeks...

Almost as if he could sense your confusion, Trey sent multiple texts in a row after that first one, giving you more information about the upcoming unbirthday party and how he was preparing some new desserts and needed someone to test them out before he served them to Riddle and the other Heartslabyul members. Of course, you accepted.

Who knows how (probably Ace, on second thought) Floyd caught wind of this happening, but as soon as he did? Hoooo boy, it was ON!

Floyd gets into strange moods sometimes, and sometimes those moods go into a sort of overzealous competition (unfortunately for the basketball team, that competitive mood never comes around during plays-). This was one of those times.

He approached you after class, presenting you with a terribly-drawn...poster, of sorts? It was pretty much just a page he had colored to look like an appealing advertisement for a "bake-off" between him and Trey for later that afternoon. It even included little stick figures of Floyd and Jade roasting Trey over a spit like a pig, and you with hearts in your eyes as you held out a blue ribbon to Floyd....Oh, yeah, this was definitely made by the eel.

Despite receiving Floyd's "official invitation", you had to go by Octavinelle to see what all the hubbub was about. Mostro Lounge was decorated to the nines, with crepe paper dangling from the ceiling, various posters of Floyd and Trey posing with their own creations, and more hand-drawn posters of Floyd beating Trey (either literally or otherwise-). Azul was absolutely mad with power (when is he ever not?) and was running around the place barking out orders, obviously too busy to talk to you, so you had to hunt down Jade, who graciously explained the situation.

Floyd was challenging Trey to a competition to see who could make the best desserts, summed up. The winner would receive a glamorous prize that was mysteriously being kept a secret for now. The judge? You!

Since you didn't entirely have a choice in whether to participate or not, you groaned inwardly and allowed Jade to pull you aside as he spoke about needing you to "look the part" for a cooking judge. Bam! He pulled out a very glamorous outfit from nowhere, along with a decorative apron that had your name embroidered on it...which led you to wonder how long Floyd had been planning this all out?

But that's not a question for you to worry your pretty little head about! Onto the contest!

Trey begrudgingly accepted the baking challenge, only really agreeing after hearing whatever this "prize" was. Or, at least, that's what you overheard from the massive crowd of students who gathered into the Mostro Lounge to watch the challenge proceed (of course, they still had to pay tickets to come as well as for their meals and drinks!)

You still weren't even sure of what was going on, only that you were seated in a fancy chair on a pedestal with a small table in front of you.

Heck, all you could do was watch as Trey and Floyd stood at their separate areas, baking with such fervor that you'd think they were fighting for their lives. batter was flying everywhere, the crowd was getting splattered with ingredients, and Azul stood to the side with Jade, practically having Thaumark-signs in his eyes.

In the end, Floyd brought up to you a very beautifully-made parfait, and Trey brought a regal, multi-layered cake. You took a bite of each, still not taking this whole contest very seriously.

"I think....Trey wins," You said with a confident smile "Your cake was very good, and uh...stuff."

"What???" Floyd yelled out, putting his hands on his head in dismay while Trey wiped off his apron with a satisfied grim "Why didn't I win???"

All you could do was shrug and hold back a laugh "I don't like parfaits...plus, that gummy shark you tossed in there with all the strawberry jam around it really threw me off."

As Floyd stormed off and began to break almost everything in the lounge, ranging from students to chairs to appliances, Trey looked up to you with his usual charming look.

"So, my prize?" He asked hopefully.

"Oh, yeah, about that," You rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly "I literally only just learned about this whole contest an hour ago when Floyd gave me the paper, and I'm still in shock that all this was put together and played out in that time....but yeah, no one ever told me what this prize was."

"Aha!" He chuckled "It's a day with you, Prefect!"

┕━»•» 🌺 «•«━━━━━┙

[6okuto]

Could i have the same headcanon of falling in love but for Mhin? Thank you 🙏 😭

MHIN FALLING IN LOVE

gn!reader | mhin time! >____< lots of mhin fans here... awesome world. in case anyone is wondering yes i do have vere in my drafts. meowww

predictably, a slowburn with angst.

hard to get to know, not because they aren't predictable, or because they're incredibly hard to read, but because they're Fawking persistent when it comes to keeping their guard up. which means you have to be even More persistent. an absurd cycle. but you can get there. You will get there.

i think something that slowly takes down(?) mhin's walls would be showing interest in them past working together and their secrets. asking something more mundane like what their favourite season or meal is, what kind of music they like, if they enjoy rain. they're wary to answer because ?? why are you asking. why are you being weird. but they realize it's nice to think of something else about themself other than being a monstrosity. wow. ow

^ and then maybe doing something with their answer! going out of your way to buy some sweets for them, asking if they're okay when it's super cold/hot because they mentioned not enjoying it. something they've forgotten you even know. it also makes them wonder what your answers would be. the first time mhin manages to ask "what's yours?" is !!!! woah!

another moment might be choosing to be sincere when you could've teased them for something. they give you a look (honestly more often than not, mhin's first reaction is always wary confusion/denial), and you promise you're telling the truth. and they might not thank you or anything, but it sticks in the back of their head while they try to ignore how flustered they feel.

another Little moment might be you catching them off guard by like. being mean. they've gotten used to you pestering and following them. they've gotten used to your list of questions and times where you're walking quietly. neither of you have spoken in 5 minutes, and they're rolling their eyes, thinking to themself "what an asshole" about some guy arguing with a server, and then you mutter "what a fucking asshole" out loud. and they just look at you like ?. and you look back like ?? like i'm wrong. and mhin can't help but snicker or scoff.

when they realize what's going on (waiting for you to find them, looking for you, enjoying your company, etc), mhin starts avoiding you like the plague. all that time learning your schedule/habits has made it easy to avoid you (until you realize what's going on, at least). even places that they enjoyed for themself, they time things so you don't cross paths. it's honestly impressive LOL

they kind of hate it though. they miss you. they tell themself they don't, but they do. yeah they avoid you, but you know, if you both happen to be shopping, they might trail you and notice how you're buying ingredients for your favourite dessert, or how your eyes linger on a necklace before moving on. they just happen to be taking a similar path as you, and it's not like they want something bad to happen, so it makes sense to watch out, even now.

i'm picturing a confrontation where they try to deny avoiding you, then say they're doing it for a reason... and then you ask what this is, what anything meant, if anything. and mhin thinks they've dug themself a grave already and tell you it was nothing, a mistake, you should go home.

and you can either wait for a second confrontation, or call out their bullshit there—they're a liar but it's obvious to you, so what's actually going on? and tension rises and you push a little further until they finally tell you of course they care about you! and their voice might break a little because they don't speak loudly often, and their words dawn on them and they purse their lips—that's why they're trying to stay away.

something something don't push me away, i won't let you push me away, the significance of promising to stay with them, to work through things together and not leaving them alone, of seeing them as something else other than a monster, of seeing them as mhin.

mhin falls in love with your kindness, your open heart that warms theirs until it remembers spring. not just in the way you help them, but the kindness you show yourself, the people around you, your friends. they fall in love with watching you see the world in a way they hope to one day.

they fall in love with someone who perseveres when things get hard, but reminds the both of them that pushing too much or isolating yourself won't help. they'll stand at your desk and watch until you put your things away, or frown when they find you asleep outside of bed, and they know you'll do the same with them. they believe you'll get better at this together

mhin falling in love is pushing themself out of their comfort zone and doing their best to speak, even and especially when they can't think of what to say. it's them finding you in a bad mood and getting you food and offering to listen if you need to vent. it's them opening up and being vulnerable about their past that still hurts them, letting you reach for their hand or hold them when all they can think is that they don't deserve it.

i've mentioned this before but in an established relationship, mhin is softer but...not? they're comfortable to the point that they enjoy when you rest your head on their shoulder, but also enjoy making fun of you and laughing afterward. they don't have to be cold or walled off!! you're getting the real mhin, all sides included!

in general, they aren't a very touchy person. whether this is because they're not used to it or actually don't enjoy it is up in the air in my head. either way, it makes moments of physical touch a little more special! leaning against you when they're tired, reaching for your hand in crowds, letting you tie or play with their hair, etc.

the first time mhin kisses you, you're asleep. it's just a little one on the forehead as they pull the blanket up a little higher. and they keep doing it, because maybe it'll make it easier for when you wake up. they don't realize that you've been awake for the past 3 kisses as you pretend to fall asleep.

they let you watch them do experiments, and if it's up your alley, will listen to your thoughts and suggestions! feel honoured because it isn't a place, or thing that they let just anyone see! even if you aren't very science-y, feel free to give your opinion. maybe something will click in their head, y'know. or just be like, what if you mix red and white to make pink. and watch mhin stare at you like. How did you pick the two that'd be the Worst possible combination. like okay sorry i like pretty colours woah /lh

saying i love you.... i think they'd try really hard. you've helped them so much and they really do care, even if they're scared to say they love you, they know they do, they don't know what else this could be. there's a few times you catch them staring at you weirdly focused, and they're making a face with scrunched brows and pouting lips, and you're like. What is happening. and they chicken out. and get angry at themself for a while.

it kind depends on you, of course, and what kind of person you are. if you're someone who says it easily but never pushes them to say it, they feel grateful but guilty. if both of you keep dancing around it, a little anxiety and insecurity creeps back in when they don't want it to.

it's kind of a big deal for them, so the first time you say it is at the same time. not like Simultaneously saying it, but the same. ...day. at least. LOL. although if they're the one to say it first (somehow??) and you don't say it back until later that night because ?? shock? processing? nervous excitement? they Will be having a rough time dealing with themself, even while they repeat over and over that you deserve time, too, and it's okay, and they shouldn't overthink, etc etc.

mhin is So visibly relieved when you say it back. "were you worried?" "no?" < their head was a cacophony of 27 ambulances and noisy garbage compactors

grahhh i forgot to make a new tag list form. friends. I will make one eventually. but u r still here 4 now. kyaaa | @screaming-wea-sel @semifilms @cvhenia @mitskiologist @leiiii-i @sweet-milky-tea705 @khalixvitae

[dawndelion-winery]

Dumb Ways To Fall in Love

The silly things they do to impress you when they're in love

Ft. Childe, Diluc, Kaeya, Dainsleif, Scaramouche

Childe:

He's always liked to think he was charming in his own odd way

And he does fully expect said "charm" to work on you

Which is why he's pretty confused as to why you don't seem smitten by his obvious attention

He cooks for you a lot! But they're normally,,,,unique dishes with whatever he fishes himself

Because he wants to impress you with how he can whip something up from scratch

Which doesn't really work out well because...well we've seen his signature dish

More often than not, the dessert is far more appetising

Please use that as motivation to finish the main course, he tried his best and it would hurt his feelings if you didn't even try it

Diluc:

He knows him being a rich, gentlemanly bachelor is a very big seeking point of his to most of the Mondstadt population

Which is why he not so subtly tries to subtly flex his wealth in front of you

Now he's already normally generous, which is what makes it so jarring when he does it with you

Because mentally he's just "Yeah, I'd do this for the average Mondstadt citizen, which means I have to one up that now"

But of course who's to determine what "one" is?

Hence the huge leap of obvious favouritism

Not even a hint of hesitation when you seem to want something from him

The number of times he's just agreed to whatever favour you've asked for before you've even specified the favour should give you an idea of what he's like

Kaeya:

He once heard you mention how you feel he's too cool and unapproachable for you, as nice as he was

So he makes an effort to slip up in front of you

Internally he thinks you'll appreciate it - "Notice me being a dumbass and find it endearing please"

Surely that should change your mind about him, right?

Until he overhears another of your opinions on him and how you (affectionately) called him a goofball playing a suave captain

Which he couldn't quite refute but he wasn't entirely sure if that was positive

Leading him back to his initial bravado, once again creating that rift because the dork you thought you noticed had disappeared

And then he panics again because you seem distant again

And the cycle repeats itself until he gets some sense slapped into him or you take a chance and ask him out

Dainsleif:

It wasn't easy being captain of the royal guard

But it was somehow easier than baring his heart to you

Brings you fruits and flowers as he travels with you

Definitely the type to silently bring you cut and peeled fruit as a nonverbal "I love you"

He's gotten really good at food presentation because of it, and adds little edible flowers as decoration

If you ever decide to take a break and read, he offers to feed you the fruit

Honestly at some point it's more like you would naturally assume y'all are dating?? But he doesn't really get the memo and keeps wondering why you never bring it up like is he not being obvious enough for you?

In pain whenever you snuggle up to him assuming you think it's platonic but accepts it nonetheless because it's nice to be able to hold you and be held

Scaramouche:

All people do is disappoint so why put in the effort to woo you?

So he says as he proceeds to try impress you anyway

Subtly flexes quite literally every strength he has in front of you

For no apparent reason he'll cook over a campfire he started out of nowhere just because

Yeah, y'know, just to show he can work with what he's got, he's very resourceful

You're not entirely sure what his intentions are though, since he's more of proving his usefulness instead of showing you he cares about you

And you'd probably only pick up on that if you knew his past

He does pick up on what makes you feel loved and enjoy his presence over time though, so give him a little adjustment time to work out how to best express himself to you

Taglist[send an ask to be added/removed]: @myluvkeiji @pluvioseprince @aqui-soba @favonius-captain @tiredsleep @raincxtter @gensimping-for-all @irethepotato @almond-adeptus @mx-kamisato @yuzuricebun @chaosinanutshell @heizours @haliyamori @callmemeelah @sadlonelybagel @plinkuro @thevictoriousmoon @mastering-procrastinating @lovers-on-the-eiffel @cxlrosii @miss-fantazmagoria @lychme @kokomist @lemonswriting @eowinthetraveller @ajaxstar @boundedbyfate

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

Heyo, can I pull for Suitor Suit Riddle? I’m using my guaranteed pulls for him! (Lmk if I didn’t follow the rules or anything ^^)

congrats on 300 followers (ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ₊˚⊹✩´-

Riddle Rosehearts: A Tea Party to Remember

Hello Beneathsakurashade! ☆

Thank you so much for pulling on the Gacha of Love ♡ Congrats on getting Suitor Suit Riddle! Here is your card, enjoy! ♡

If you would like to pull on the Gacha of Love too, you can find the event here ♡

*Please note that the event is now over!

It was a sunny day today, with a light breeze to keep you cool. The perfect weather for a tea party, so Riddle thought, inviting you to join him that afternoon. He had Trey prepare some sweets, making sure your favorites were there. He wanted this to be perfect, the desire to impress you resting in the back of his mind.

The two of you have gotten close recently, closer than Riddle would have thought. From unbirthday party's to study sessions, unfamiliar feelings began to surface in him.

Longing to be near you, to be by your side. To help you, impress you, joke and laugh with you. To scold you, though not as harsh as the others, becoming soft in your presence.

He wasn't sure how to place these feelings stirring inside him, only knowing you were the cause. He did his best not to linger on them, more concerned with his schoolwork. He had to focus on his future, and he couldn't afford any distractions. His academics were important, and you were much too distracting... Yet, he couldn't stay away, drawn to you like a beacon.

He isn't sure where you'll be in the future, or where he'll be, his internship and graduation approaching in the next few years. For now though, he'll do his best to cherish every moment with you. He can always multitask, after all.

And multitask he did, balancing your relationship and his work to the best of his abilities. Leaving for his internship was hard, but he made sure to keep in touch, calling you every few days. It would always be at a specific time, Riddle working you into his schedule. He would even do his best to work around it, visiting you on occasion. He looked forward to these reunions, short and never long enough for his liking. Though long distance wasn't easy, the years flew by, leading you to where you are now.

Sitting at a familiar table, under the same tree from all those years ago. In the distance you can see Trey, doing his best to stay hidden next to Deuce and Ace. Cater wasn't being subtle, holding his phone out in your direction. Was he recording something? Taking pictures? You weren't sure, but you had a suspicion why they were there.

First was Deuce's wedding, then Trey's, then Ace's. From the way Riddle did his best to hide his nerves, you had a feeling your own may be coming soon, his hand moving to hold yours. The desserts taste sweeter than you remembered, listening as he spoke. His speech was clear and confident, as if rehearsed, his eyes never leaving yours. All that waits is your response, that three letter word he longs to hear... ♡

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡